


Do Not Go Gentle - Book 1 Betrayal

by auburnimp, zheyrryhn



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Multi, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:19:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 81,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auburnimp/pseuds/auburnimp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zheyrryhn/pseuds/zheyrryhn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Ani falls Aya and Yohji have to come to terms with some unpleasant truths and two new team mates don't help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Loss

**Author's Note:**

> Written with zheyrrhyn my favourite demonboi

Moonlight danced across the waves. Waves that concealed the twisted dreams of the Esset Elders and the ruins of the Ani Museum. Ruins that had become the final tomb for two groups of killers. 

Or perhaps not. 

Aya struggled for life, fighting the undertow, the chunks of masonry and the desire to just give in and die. He was almost surprised when he made it into shallower water and was able to see the shore ahead. 

His surprise turned to amazement when he realized that, through it all, he'd managed to keep a grip on the katana. Seemingly he still had some sort of purpose, some reason for surviving. 

He literally crawled out of the water and collapsed on the beach, his strength finally deserting him and the darkness descending to swallow him whole. 

Yohji staggered onto the beach, shivering and drenched in sea water. He felt as if he'd spent the last hour rolling around inside a cement mixer filled with rocks, and he badly wanted a smoke but didn't even bother to check the pack since he knew it was hopelessly sodden from his sojourn in the waves. His sunglasses were gone, lost in the waves like his team. 

He could replace the glasses, but if the others were gone... if he was the only survivor. 

No, he wouldn't think about that. Not just yet. 

He stood at the edge of the sea and scanned the beach, aware that his legs were trembling beneath him, his whole body shaking from fatigue. 

Sea stung eyes caught the shape of a dark lump unmoving down the beach and Yohji stumbled toward it, fell, muttered at himself in annoyance and hauled himself back to his feet. 

When he was still a few yards from the lump he realized it was Aya, not because he could discern the man's features in the dark, but because of the katana still clutched in the red-head's hand. 

He dropped to his knees beside the other killer and rolled him over, not sure if the other Weiss was alive or dead. 

"Aya?" he queried softly as he brushed sand from the pale cheek. 

There was an annoying buzz in his ears, the lightest of touches to his cheek. He muttered something incomprehensible and tried to escape back into the darkness. It was impossible. He was too cold to do anything more than shiver. 

Sighing slightly he forced salt-crusted eyelids to part and stared at the figure bending over him. It took him a moment to recognize it due to fatigue and the fact that the moon was behind whoever it was. 

The figure spoke. One word. His borrowed name. He recognized the dark brown voice. 

"Yohji?" 

" _Hai_ , Aya," the blond replied as he pulled the younger man close. 

Aya felt chilled, maybe from the shock of their ordeal, probably from exhaustion. He could sympathize, all the older Weiss wanted to do right now was curl up somewhere warm and sleep for a week. His whole body ached. Instead he was sitting there in the wet sand, holding a team mate and wondering where the other two were. 

"Are you hurt?" 

Aya thought about that for a while. He did a quick, mental scan of his body and could find only minor gashes and abrasions from the chunks of building that had battered him. 

" _Ile_ ," he said finally. 

Yohji's jade eyes scanned the beach but there was nothing else to see. No one else, moving or otherwise. 

"Think you can walk?" he questioned. He wasn't sure he could carry Aya, but he would do his best if it came down to that. Aya had helped him on more than one occasion when he'd been wounded and unable to walk without assistance. And the man had saved all their lives during the SD ambush. 

He owed Aya, and Yohji never forgot things like that. 

Aya slowly pushed himself into a sitting position and waited for the world to stop spinning before he answered. It didn't matter whether he could walk or not, he had to. They had to get off this beach and get warm if they were to survive. 

"I can walk," he said eventually. 

There was something missing. Something he should be able to remember but his brain didn't seem to be working too well. Shaking his head he climbed painfully to his feet. Then he realised what it was he was trying to recall. 

"Ken? Omi? Have you seen them?" 

Yohji stood, sighing as his legs protested the movement. He glanced at the red-haired man, frowned. Aya didn't seem too steady on his feet, but then he supposed he wasn't doing that great either. 

"No. Not a trace, but I can't say that I've searched either. I saw you first and wanted to make sure you were alive." 

How ironic if Yohji and he were the only survivors of Weiss. The younger two still had some hope, some reason to go on. He had done what he'd set out to do and saved his sister. There was no more he was needed for, nothing that needed his attention. 

And Yohji was haunted by his own demons, his own memories. Yet here they both were and no sign of the others. 

"We ought to search," he said. "We made it ashore. They may have done so too." It was unlikely really. The last he'd seen of Omi, he was having his ribs kicked in by Farfarello and Ken had seemed dazed as he sat there just watching it happen. Could they really have made it to the shore? 

He glanced up at Yohji, as if asking him to make the decision. 

"Let's stay together, just in case we run into any of those bastard freaks. Neither of us is in any condition to fight them alone, and with our luck, Berserker will be the one we find alive." 

Yohji slipped his arm around Aya, seeking to give the man a little support, wanting the stability of another person to help him stay on his own feet. 

Aya nodded, glad not to have to make any decisions for now. He found he did have a question, however. 

"Where are we going?" 

He didn't want to find Manx or Sakura right now. The girl's obsession with him was beginning to freak him out and Manx, hopefully, would have lost no time in getting Aya-chan back to the hospital. It didn't leave them with a great deal of choice. 

"Up the beach. Maybe we'll find Ken or Omi. Either way, I parked Seven in the trees by the road just up that hill," Yohji told him, pointing out the hill he mentioned. 

He didn't really expect to see either of his team mates. He'd seen the slab of concrete that had fallen into the water where both Omi and Ken had been and had little hope either of them were alive. And if Farfarello were dead, then it would be from the same huge slab of ceiling taking him to the bottom with their younger team mates. 

For some reason he was reluctant to tell Aya about what he'd seen, possibly because he couldn't state unequivocally that they were dead. Not yet anyway. 

Aya looked at the hill, took a deep breath and nodded. He could make it. He had to make it. He didn't know why but he felt as if his death would be somehow catastrophic which was ridiculous but never mind. He supposed it was just his mind playing tricks in order to force his body into action. 

He knew they wouldn't find the others. He too had seen that large slab come down where they had been and, like Yohji, said nothing. 

"Let's go then." 

"Right." 

Yohji started off with the red-haired assassin, the pair moving slowly, Yohji discovering some bruising along his left side which the warmth that was returning to his body made more apparent. He wondered if any of his ribs were broken, but didn't really care. For whatever reason, fate, karma, god, he was alive and so was Aya. 

Maybe what they said about only the good dying young was true. Omi had been good, Ken too in his heart. 

He and Aya? Well they were who and what they were, and it was too late to change that now. 

Peaceful beauty hiding death beneath the calm waves the same way the pair of men hid the souls of killers beneath their attractive exteriors.


	2. The New Guys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written with zheyrrhyn

_Three months later_

Yohji stared at the picture, Aya caught off his guard, Omi pulling on Ken's ear and giving him the 'No soccer balls in the shop' lecture, the soccer player yowling in outrage, him sitting in the background. They'd had the picture at the Koneko, and for some reason he'd grabbed it and brought it along when they'd left. 

He missed the younger pair with an ache approaching the same pain he'd felt for his loss of Asuka. And almost as much guilt. 

They'd never been found, the sea hadn't even yielded their dead, the ruins the only grave marker the pair would ever have. 

Sighing he looked away from the picture to finish wiping down the kitchen counter, cleaning up some soup he'd spilled when he'd made his lunch. 

He missed working at the Koneko. Missed his team mates more. 

Aya had lapsed into almost total silence. As well as mourning the two youngest Weiss, he was also mourning the final loss of his sister. She was alive, awake and she and Sakura were helping Momoe-san at the Koneko. He had done what he'd set out to do and given her back her place in the world. He wasn't sure why he was still in it. It should have been him at the bottom of the sea, not Ken and Omi. 

His reverie was broken by a knocking on the back door. Only Manx or Birman came here and he wondered what Kritiker wanted of them now. 

Yohji didn't expect Aya to get the door. Aya showed so little life that he might well have died and become a corpse himself, except that he did occasionally change locations in the small house they were sharing well away from Tokyo. 

The blond went to the door and pulled it open knowing he'd find one of two people: Manx or Birman. From the knock he knew it would be Manx. 

The Kritiker agent smiled at him and entered the kitchen, looking around for Aya at the same time. He didn't keep her waiting long, appearing silently in the doorway to the rest of the house. 

"Aya, Yohji, I need to let you know what is happening and what decisions Kritiker have made for the future of Weiss." 

She didn't seem too happy about it either, Aya decided. "So talk," he said gruffly, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

She fidgeted with her bag for a moment before saying, "We are giving you two new team mates." 

Aya stared at her as if she'd gone crazy. "And we're supposed to trust them, just like that?" 

"He's right,” Yohji said. “It took us a while to get used to Aya after he joined us, and Omi and I were together almost a year before you brought Ken to us." He sighed and pulled out a kitchen chair, dropping into it before looking from Manx to Aya, "I don't even know if I can still do this anymore." 

Although she looked uncomfortable, apologetic even, Manx was still adamant. "I'm afraid none of us has any choice, Kudoh." 

"How long before we have to kill people again?" Aya demanded. "A week? A month? With new people we neither know nor trust. It's madness." 

Yohji just sighed and but nothing. What was there to say? Omi and Ken were gone, and they were being replaced. Like a light bulb or a worn out car. 

"If you're here telling us they're going to arrive I imagine they aren't far behind, are they?" He lifted jade eyes to Manx, "Who are they? How long have they been with Kritiker?" 

"They are Singapura and Bengal," Manx told him as she dug a couple of thick folders out of her bag. "Here are their files. They will be arriving sometime this evening. Please try to make them welcome. They're awed enough as it is." 

"Awed?" Yohji glanced at Aya. That didn't sound good in the blonde's opinion. 

Manx made for the door before Aya's voice stopped her in her tracks. "Who assigned them to us?" 

"I'd like an answer to that too, since there wasn't a Persia last I heard," Yohji added. 

"There is a Persia," Manx said. "Why wouldn't there be?" She sighed. Much as she liked the Weiss boys, both of them could be too bright for their own good at times. "It was Persia that assigned them and believe me, he has your best interests at heart and specifically chose operatives that he considered would fit in with you." 

Yohji's frown only deepened. "Persia was dead. Botan died. They were the ones that gave us our assignments. Now you're telling me there's a new Persia?" He sat back in the chair, eyes haunted. "It's all the same isn't it? Him, them, us..." The blond shook his head. "So he knows us well enough to choose a team for us, but we've got no clue who he is." 

He got up and went to the fridge, pulled out a beer and popped the top, taking a few swallows before he shrugged, his gaze on Aya now, waiting to see what the other man would say or do, not that Yohji expected much from the man. Aya was little more than walking dead anyway, and he was going to drink himself to death if the cigarettes didn't get him first. 

He reached out and picked up the file marked 'Bengal' glancing at the plain brown covering that hid the face of their newest team mate. One of Kritiker's newest killers. 

Manx shrugged, wishing she could say more, but knowing she couldn't. It was just how Kritiker was. 

Aya came further into the room then and picked up the other file before glancing at her. "Was there anything else?" he asked, one brow raised. 

She shook her head and with another sigh left them to it. 

Aya opened the file and started reading until he heard her car start and then fade into the distance. "Persia knows us," he said, "knows us well. I think we've been lied to again." 

"Yeah, probably, but that's nothing new is it?" Yohji asked finally flipping the file open and glancing at the picture. "Bengal is younger than we are. About Ken's age..." Yohji's voice trailed off and he flipped another page, reading the information about the young man and the training he'd received with Kritiker. He snorted and pulled an arrest sheet out of the file, dropping it on the table where Aya could see it. "I think he's going to be trouble." 

Aya glanced at the document and sniffed. "Trouble for whom? Us or Kritiker?" 

"Us probably. Bad temper." 

Aya started reading the other file and made a small sound of surprise. "I think you'd better have a look at this. Sounds almost like one of Masafumi's experiments." 

Yohji leaned across the table to get a look at what Aya was reading. "Snow leopard? And they haven't told him?" He shook his head. "Yeah, does sound like something Masafumi would have done, doesn't it?" 

Aya exhaled sharply. "And we're supposed to get on with them?" He was silent for a while but, unlike his silence of recent weeks, it was the prelude to something he wanted to say. He let out another breath on a shuddering sigh. "I think I owe you an apology." 

Yohji took another drink of his beer, shrugged. "For what, Aya? In the time we've known one another you've never apologised to me for anything." He put the beer down, "It's been hard on both of us, what happened. I..." he reached across the table and dared to put a hand on Aya's arm, "I understand." 

"Yes," Aya said quietly, "but I was focusing so much on how hard it was for me that I forgot that you were mourning too." Another silence, but that was the way of conversation with Aya. He always thought hard about what he should and shouldn't say as he found words difficult at the best of times. "I've also been mourning my sister," he said eventually. "I can never see her again, not if she's to stay safe." He made no move at all to avoid Yohji's hand on his arm. 

"But she's alive and well and probably happy, Aya," Yohji told him. "That's something." He pulled his hand back, not wanting to push the man. Aya never liked anyone touching him, and though Yohji dared to do it now and then, he also never pushed Aya too much. 

"That's more than I've got," he murmured as he downed the rest of his beer and crushed the empty can one handed. He tossed it into the trash, got up to get another. 

After a very long silence, Aya spoke again. "You've got me," he said quietly. "I know it isn't much and I've been very self absorbed but... for what it's worth, I'm not going anywhere." 

Yohji blinked. Turned to look at the other man, puzzled and a little confused. It wasn't as if Aya ever did anything to show emotional support for them. 

Or did he? 

Thinking about it, Yohji started to put a few things together. Like all the times they'd had a female target to take out and Aya took care of it, rather than leaving it to Yohji. 

Aya stared back at him, his expression strangely vulnerable, before he looked away, obviously embarrassed by his small show of emotion. "I suppose we'd better make up the beds in the spare rooms," he said quietly. "Our new team mates will be here soon." The way he said team mates suggested that they would be anything but until they could prove otherwise. 

The blonde was staring now, shocked to the very roots of his being. Aya showing any sort of emotion? 

He set the file aside and stood, "I guess you're right." 

It was going to be very strange to have other team mates though and Yohji wasn't sure he would adjust to the changes. 

He missed Omi and even missed Ken and his soccer addiction. They'd been a family, a warped sort of one, but a family nonetheless. 

Now they would have to deal with strangers. 

But right now, he was going to deal with Aya. "It's more than your sister, isn't it? I mean what's bothering you." 

Aya sighed deeply before looking at Yohji and finally nodding. "They should have lived and I should have died. I achieved what I set out to achieve. Now... now I just don't know what I would be fighting for. It sure as hell wouldn't be for Kritiker." 

He took in a deep breath. "I don't even know if I can kill anymore." 

The blond debated something then decided it was time to talk. "We didn't find their bodies did we? We never saw them. Hell, there isn't even a grave marker for either of them. I've been thinking about that, and for all we know they may be alive. And I'll tell you something else." He frowned, "I think Omi's the new Persia. Who else knows us well enough to pick new team mates for us? 

"As far as the killing goes," he shrugged, "do you really think you can just stop doing it? Walk away? I don't think we can. And I think Kritiker knows that.” 

"Wait a minute, Yohji. You're saying you think Omi's still alive and yet he's not let us know that?” He frowned at the thought and yet it made a strange kind of sense. "What about Ken? Do you think he drowned or something else happened? Tell me, Yohji! I need to know how you worked this out as I've just spent three months in mourning!" 

"So have I, Aya. But I've been thinking too. Manx just said our new team mates were chosen by someone that knows us. Well who knows us well enough to choose new team mates for us better than Omi? He is a Takatori, and so was the last Persia, right?" 

He sighed, "As far as Ken goes, if he is alive, he probably thinks we're dead." 

Aya flicked a finger at the files on the table. "And if he is alive, he believes these newcomers can replace him and Ken?" He sighed and nodded suddenly. "Yes, actually I can see him doing just exactly that." 

He took another glance at the files. "I suppose we owe it to him to give them a chance at least. See if we can become Weiss again." 

Yohji snorted but said nothing else as he got up and went to put sheets on the twin beds that used to belong to Omi and Ken. 

* * * * * * * 

Tanashi Kai adjusted his duffle over his shoulder and dragged the larger suitcase out of the trunk. He glanced at the house and frowned slightly. The place didn't look like much. Certainly not where he'd have expected Kritiker to keep Weiss. 

Weiss. Now that was a name to conjure with. He wondered whether the two surviving members would accept him. Then again, judging by his own experiences with Kritiker, they probably didn't have any choice in the matter. Swallowing his nerves he approached the door and knocked. 

Yohji looked up from the sheet he was putting on the bed, "Aya, can you get that or should I?" 

"You get it. You're better at these things. I'll finish the beds." 

Yohji nodded and headed for the door. He picked up the pair of folders, no sense in upsetting either of the newcomers by letting them see the reports about them. He stuffed them in the drawer of a rickety end table and then went to the door, unlocking it and regarding the younger man standing in the doorway. 

The first thing that drew Yohji's attention was the diamond stud in the younger man's nose. "Can I help you?" he asked, not quite sure what to say other than that. He was pretty sure this was one of their new team mates, but he wasn't in the habit of making assumptions. 

A pair of deep blue eyes gazed up for a cool, assessing moment before the newcomer spoke. When he did his voice was soft, quiet, on the tenor side of baritone, not unlike Yohji's own. "I'm Tanashi Kai...Bengal," he said. 

Yohji regarded the kid standing on the steps of the safe house, “Bengal?” He glanced down the street, then stepped aside to let the younger man in. “Singapura isn’t with you?” 

Kai frowned. "Singapura?" he queried. "I don't know who that is. Sorry." He accepted the unspoken invitation and, picking up his baggage, walked into the house. "You're Balinese, right?" 

“Yeah. Kudoh Yohji, Balinese.” He shut the door and locked it. The safe house wasn’t in the best neighbourhood, and he wasn’t too happy with the fact that Seven was parked on the street behind Aya’s Porsche. 

A silver Lexus had been added behind the Porsche although the newcomer didn't seem too bothered by its safety. Instead he dropped his bags and extended a hand. "An honour to meet you," he said politely. 

“Yeah, sure kid, whatever.” Yohji didn’t take the offered hand, instead he crossed the living room, the tall man doing a good imitation of something with a total lack of bones as he flopped limply across a chair, legs over one arm. 

He didn’t like the idea of being with two new people, especially not two who were so damned young. 

Kai's eyes narrowed slightly at the apparent rudeness of the older man. "Listen, I don't want to be here anymore than you seem to want me here but I had no choice in the matter. So I guess we're just going to have to make the best we can of the situation. Now, if you'll tell me where my room is, I'll get my luggage and myself out of your hair, okay?" 

Yohji sighed, “Aya’s making up the beds.” He pulled his cigarettes out, “I should probably help him. Come on, you got here first so you can pick the room you want.” 

He flowed to his feet and headed for the stairs, “We’re all stuck in this, and none of us are happy. Keep your distance from Aya and life will be easier for you,” he warned. 

Aya. Abyssinian. A name to conjure with if even half the stories were true. But then so was Balinese. Weiss had been Kritiker's top team and Kai felt proud to be included as part of Weiss mark four. Whether they could ever be as good as Weiss three had been was moot but he would give it his best shot. As long as the two leftovers from mark three accepted him at all. Balinese's attitude so far had been cool to say the least and from what he'd heard, Abyssinian was likely to be even worse. He swallowed a sigh as he picked up his bags and followed Yohji up the stairs. 

Yohji found Aya in the room that had been Omi’s. “Bengal is here,” he announced. “No sign of the other one.” 

He refused to become attached to these new boys. They weren’t Weiss and never would be. Weiss was just he and Aya now. Let the other two do what they wanted, let them kill, but he’d follow Aya’s lead. 

Aya was all he had left now. 

Aya turned to gaze at Kai with flat, emotionless eyes. "You're the one who was Yakuza, right? You'd better forget all of that now." 

Kai swallowed, trying to dislodge the sudden lump that had become wedged in his throat. "Understood," he managed to say. 

Aya sniffed and folded his arms across his chest. "Both rooms are ready so take your pick. They're both about the same size." With that he nodded once and swept past Kai and Yohji and down the stairs. 

"Abyssinian," Kai breathed before pulling himself together and dumping his cases on the bed. "This room will be fine." 

But the boy was talking to himself because Yohji had swept out of the doorway on Aya’s heels, the pair leaving a decidedly cold feeling in the atmosphere behind them. 

Yohji caught up with Aya at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m going out for beer and smokes, you want anything?” he asked as he pulled his keys out of his pocket. 

"No. I'm just going to make some tea and think about dinner for us all. Oh, yeah, you could pick up some rice while you're out." 

Yohji nodded, “Rice. Okay.” He glanced at Aya, “Yakuza,” he muttered and shook his head, wondering exactly what Kritiker was thinking in sending them one of the very ‘dark beasts’ they’d once hunted to be part of Weiss. The front door banged shut as he left. 

Aya turned into the kitchen and brewed some green tea before settling to wait for the next arrival. He didn't think he would be long in showing up. 

Yohji still hadn’t returned when a few sharp raps on the door sounded through the house. Sighing slightly, Aya rose gracefully to his feet and opened the door to gaze at the stranger standing there. He didn't look much like a cat but that meant absolutely nothing. 

The boy bowed respectfully, “Fujimiya-san, I am Mitsuwa Zeshin. Forgive me for intruding, but Birman sent me here to be part of Weiss.” The boy never even looked up at the man, his eyes downcast, his actions those of an inferior speaking to someone of greater importance. 

Beside him on the porch was a single bag and a laptop case, nothing else. 

A classic American muscle car in wine red had been parked on the curb across the street, Yohji’s parking place for Seven still open, a trashcan sitting in the middle of the space to keep anyone from parking there. 

Aya's brows rose slightly but he kept his thoughts to himself, merely saying, "you'd better come in," and opening the door wider to admit the boy. 

The silver-haired boy bowed again, and picked up his things, slipping past Aya on totally silent feet. He paused just inside and slipped off his shoes, picking them up and tucking them under one arm. 

“If Fujimiya-san would just direct me where my room is, I’m sure I can find it.” His head was still down, the boy making no effort to look at Aya whatsoever. 

"Follow me," Aya said, his voice not unkind, and led the way to the stairs. He was wondering how such a traditional, shy boy could possibly be a killer. Then he remembered his own history and the quiet, studious boy who had become cold, deadly Abyssinian. 

He opened the door to Ken's old room, still suffering a slight pang at the complete lack of mess since the soccer-nut had...gone. 

Zeshin trailed silently in the taller man’s wake, amber eyes taking in the place. Simple, nothing fancy but liveable. He was determined to make the best of the situation with the two older more experienced Weiss. He respected them and knew they must resent his presence in their team. He didn’t blame them. 

“Thank you, Fujimiya-san,” he murmured softly and bowed. He slipped past the older man, going into the room and setting his things down on the dresser. 

The boy seemed more like the memory of a person than a real one. The ghost of someone who’d left the world of the living, only a moving and breathing shell remaining. 

"Don't let revenge be your consuming passion," Aya said suddenly and without really knowing why. He just wanted to try preventing this boy from becoming the same as him, so closed off that he could no longer relate to other people until it was too late. 

Zeshin raised his gaze to Aya, showing the man calm amber eyes that could hide anything, “I do not seek revenge, Fujimiya-san. All I seek is justice for those who have been wronged.” 

Aya shrugged. He had taken this as far as he was prepared to go. "As you wish," he said and retreated to the kitchen and his tea. 

Zeshin watched the man leave, unsure how to feel about Fujimiya-san’s softly delivered admonition about revenge. Everyone in Kritiker knew that had been the one thing driving Abyssinian when he’d become part of the organization. But he wasn’t like that. He knew revenge was a hollow victory at best. 

No matter how many people he killed it could never bring his family back. 

But it could keep others from experiencing the pain he felt and lived with every day of his life, and if it took a river of blood and piles of corpses then that was what would be. Fate had set him in this place and he would do his best to bear up under the necessities of that fate.


	3. Confessions in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with the amazing zheyrrhyn

It was dark where he’d parked Seven, not even a working streetlight to shed a glow on the misery filling the man’s heart. 

Yohji stared at the empty bourbon bottle, face streaked with drying tears. 

Gone. Gone. Gone. 

Ken. Asuka. Maybe Omi too. 

Gone. 

And him left alive to grieve and hurt. 

He dropped the bottle on the floor and fumbled for a cigarette, the alcohol in his system unable to completely destroy the man’s coordination. 

The pack was almost empty, but that hardly mattered. He had a whole carton sitting on the seat beside him next to another unopened bottle of bourbon. 

New team mates. New people to try and live with. 

To try not to get attached too, or cry over when they died. 

* * * * * * * 

When over an hour had passed with no sign of either Yohji or the rice he had requested, Aya began to worry. He knew the lanky blonde well enough to know that he was ripe for mischief and a night of maudlin drunkenness. The thought that Yohji was drinking somewhere made his eyes narrow in anger. How dare Yohji go off to drown his sorrows and leave him to mind the newbies? He snatched up his car keys and left the house to search. 

Yohji hardly noticed the headlights of a car sweeping across the back of Seven. He was too intent on working the cap off of the second bottle of bourbon, the plastic proving just a bit too much for him in his current state of inebriation. 

Having spent an hour waiting and then a further two searching, by the time Aya found Yohji's car he was beyond pissed. Three hours was quite long enough for the blonde to get ridiculously drunk. 

Aya pulled up just behind Yohji's Seven and sat for a moment quietly fuming as he watched his team mate raise a bottle to his lips. He yanked the keys out of the ignition and climbed out of his car the door closing with a satisfying slam behind him. He stalked forward and wrenched open the passenger door on the seven. 

"Just what in hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, his voice quiet but icy and hard 

Yohji stared at Aya for a second, not sure if the man was really there or if he was seeing things. It wouldn’t be the first time if he was hallucinating, but something told him he wasn’t. Maybe it was the faint scent of Aya, or the feeling of movement as the car door had opened. 

“Getting drunk,” he replied matter-of-factly as he studied the bottle of bourbon he’d just taken a drink from. “Wanna drink?” His voice was just starting to slur, a true indication that he was well and truly drunk. 

"No I do not want a drink. And where's the rice I asked for?" Damn! Now he would have to convince the idiot that he was in no fit state to drive his car. If he threw up in the Porsche he would be cleaning it in the morning. 

“Rice is in back,” Yohji said. “You sure you don’t want a drink?” he asked. “I think you need one.” He held the bottle out to Aya. 

Aya glanced at the tiny back seat to find a split packet of rice spilling its contents all over the leather. Finally all the events of the last few months culminated in an explosive outpouring of pent-up frustration and he knocked the bottle out of Yohji's hand. 

"No, I do not want a drink and you've had more than enough," he yelled. 

Yohji grabbed for the bottle, somehow managing to catch it before more than a splatter of booze hit his carpet. “Don’t do that,” he told the red-head. “Stuff’s expensive.” He stared at Aya, “What’re you so mad about. I got the fucking rice.” 

He looked away from Aya, tears burning in his eyes. It wasn’t going to be the same anymore. Too much had changed with Omi and Ken gone. Aya was becoming even more distanced and Yohji was lonely. He didn’t even have the chance to go out on dates in such a small town. People didn’t appreciate men who only wanted to play the field with their daughters out here. 

There was nothing to distract him, nothing to keep him from thinking. Nothing but the liquor. “Lemme alone, Aya. Just,” he waved at the other man, accidentally hitting Aya in the face, “go away.” 

Aya lifted a hand to his face where Yohji's hand had caught him. It was the last straw. He grabbed the bottle out of Yohji's hand and deliberately smashed it on the concrete lot. Then he reached across the blonde and retrieved the car keys before grabbing Yohji by the front of his shirt and hauling him across the gear stick and the passenger seat and out of the car where he collapsed in an inglorious heap on the ground. 

Stunned, unsure where he was at first, Yohji stared at the concrete and the smashed bottle right in front of his nose. He shook his head, got to his knees and looked around blearily wondering how he’d wound up on the ground. He could have sworn he’d been sitting in his car. He shook his head and almost fell over, the parking lot spinning slightly in his vision. 

Aya. Yes, his team mate was here somewhere. Yohji turned his head, puzzled. “Aya, where’d you go?” 

"Get up you stupid bum," Aya snarled. "I'm taking your sorry ass home." 

He grabbed the carton of cigarettes and the remains of the rice before hauling Yohji to his feet. 

Yohji didn’t move, Aya’s words burning like acid in his soul. _‘Get up you stupid bum.’_

It hurt. He shoved Aya, staggered and fell, tears filling his gaze. He didn’t even feel the shards of glass that dug into his palm and shin as he fell on the glass from the broken bottle. 

He didn’t feel anything but the words searing into his heart. 

_‘Stupid bum.’_

Aya's temper receded somewhat and he sighed as he realized just how far gone Yohji actually was. The blood oozing from cuts to the blonde's palms and shins made him realize that if nothing else could and he stepped forward to haul Yohji to very unsteady feet. 

"Come on, get in the Porsche," he said more gently. "I've got your cigarettes and car keys." He shut and locked Seven and guided Yohji towards his own car. 

“Just go away. You’d be better off with me dead too... wish it had been me... It’d be better.... Nothing but a... bum..” he pushed at Aya. “Don’t have to worry about me. The bum can get home.” 

"I'm not going to argue with you, Yohji. Get. In. The. Car. NOW!" He pulled and pushed at the larger man until he had him leaning against the side of the Porsche. He hissed slightly in sympathy, as he saw the cuts on Yohji's hands, still full of glass shards, and unlocked the passenger door before pushing Yohji gently into the seat. 

Yohji considered just going with Aya. He considered telling Aya to go fuck himself. His eyes fell on his watch, and he considered another option. 

He was a bum. He hadn’t been able to save Asuka. Hadn’t saved Maki. And he had let Ken and possibly Omi die too. 

There was blood on his hands, he stared at it, laughed, the sound slightly hysterical, not like the man’s normal laughter at all. 

Blood on his hands. Asuka’s. Maki’s. Innocent blood. That was the only blood that mattered. The tears in his eyes slipped free and he started to cry. 

Aya stopped to glance at Yohji as he laughed, a brittle, hollow sound that unnerved him. He suddenly realized how much he had come to rely on the tall blonde, how much he had leaned on his strength for the past months without stopping to consider Yohji's needs. He shut the door and walked round the car to climb into the driver's seat. He started the car but simply sat with his hands clenched on the wheel for a few moments, deep in thought. 

"I'm sorry, Yohji," he whispered eventually. "I've taken your strength for granted. Forgive me." 

Yohji wiped at his face, smearing blood and tears across his cheek. He looked out the window unable to answer, still hurt by something he’d never realized. 

“It’s okay, Aya,” he replied, voice shaky, “truth always hurts more than a lie, you know.” 

"What truth is that, Yohji?" Aya asked. His confusion was evident and he made no move to reverse the car out of the lot just yet. He felt he owed Yohji some time after taking up so much of the blonde's for the last months. 

“I’ve never saved anyone,” Yohji whispered softly, voice full of pain. “Not Asuka, Maki, Omi or Ken.” His voice broke, “It’s why I drink. Why I’m just a stupid bum.” He shuddered and closed his eyes, Asuka’s ghost dancing across his mind. “Nothing erases it. Nothing.” 

Aya was silent for a while as he contemplated telling Yohji the truth. It was only stubborn pride that prevented his speaking it before and now it might even do some good. He owed Yohji that much at least. 

"You have saved someone," he said quietly, without looking up from the steady regard of his clenched hands on the wheel, “you've saved me." 

Yohji blinked. He turned to Aya and he laughed, another brittle hollow sound. “You’ve never needed anyone to save you, Aya.” 

Aya turned silvery violet eyes to meet Yohji's green gaze. "Haven't I?" he asked cryptically. "Do you have any idea how many times I've considered finishing it in the last three months? And each time you've prevented it by simply being there. And wasn't it you who forced me to go on when we were on the beach after the museum sank? All I wanted to do was let the darkness swallow me as it had the others until you were there." 

He looked away and started to reverse the car out of the lot rather than deal with his own embarrassment at those revelations. 

Yohji considered his next words carefully. Or as carefully as someone who was stumbling drunk could. 

“I’m glad you were the one alive. I miss Ken and Omi but if I’d lost you...” the man’s voice shattered on another sob. “Hate me all you want, Aya. At least you’re alive to do it.” 

Having got the Porsche on the road and facing in the direction of home Aya let it idle again as he turned to stare at Yohji. 

"Whatever made you think I hate you?" he asked. 

The laugh came back, “What was it you said over there?” Yohji asked waving his hand back toward the parking lot they were about to leave. His voice deepened, turned hard and cold in a passable imitation of the red-haired man, "Get up you stupid bum." 

“I’m drunk, but you’re the one forgetting what you said.” He shook his head emphatically, “ ’s why I’ve kept my mouth shut you know. Sure can’t tell you what I think about you.” 

"That I'm a cold, hard icicle of a man no doubt," Aya said for him. He sighed. "Yohji, what I said was in anger. I always say hurtful things when I'm angry...and often when I'm not. I don't express myself well. I never have. I just don't like seeing you try to destroy yourself. You're all I've got left." 

Strange how cathartic it felt to actually say it. He should be feeling stupid or embarrassed but he felt neither. In all the time they'd been Weiss, Yohji had been the only one allowed to touch him, allowed to get close. Yes, he had cared about Ken and Omi in his own way but if one of them were here and Yohji gone... 

No, it didn't bear thinking about. He knew that he wouldn't be here now if Yohji were gone. 

Yohji was shaking his head so hard that it was a wonder he didn’t give himself whiplash. “I’m not what I was gonna say,” he mumbled. “Not at all.” 

“You’re... remember when you came and rescued us from the SD at the garbage dump?” Yohji asked. “I do. I remember you half carrying me out of there. Remember how you’re arm felt.” Yohji closed his eyes, sagged back against the seat. “But I knew there was no chance. None. Not for me.” 

He sighed, “But I wanted it. Oh, yeah. I wanted it so much.” 

Aya's right hand came off the wheel and thumped it as he turned to stare at Yohji. "You think I didn't? But how could I, Yohji? How could I when you kept chasing either women or ghosts or the visions at the bottom of a bottle or two? I wasn't able to trust you that far. I'm still not sure if I can until you forget the fucking women." 

Yohji’d been about to drift off to sleep, but his eyes snapped open as if he’d been slapped. 

He turned to look at Aya. “W...what did you just say?” 

"I said to forget the fucking women for once in your life," Aya snapped before leaning across and kissing Yohji. "When you can do that...who knows?" 

Jade eyes blinked in shock and suddenly Yohji was stone cold sober. “Aya?” He touched the man’s lips, stared then leaned in to press a tentative kiss to Aya’s mouth as if waiting for the sky to fall on his head. 

Aya returned the kiss for a moment before drawing away with a grimace. "You reek of booze," he complained. Then there was a fond smile as he added, "just try to remember what I said." 

He shook his head at his own mood and hit the gas. Time to go home and get to know the two newbies...after he'd dressed Yohji's cuts. 

Yohji touched Aya’s cheek with his undamaged hand, “I won’t forget, Aya.” 

He sat back in the seat and stared out of the window. “I needed the women so I didn’t think about you,” he admitted quietly. “But it was you I wanted.” 

"And Neu?" Aya prompted. "You almost betrayed us all for her. You let her almost kill you twice. Was she so much like Asuka?" 

Old pain filled the blonde’s eyes. “She looked like Asuka. Maybe she was Asuka somehow.” He shuddered as he remembered her last words as he’d strangled the life from her and wished he had the other bottle of booze because he needed it. No, what he really needed was something even stronger, but he wasn’t in Tokyo and didn’t know where to come by what he wanted in this place. Not without risking being arrested by the local cops. 

_Wouldn’t that be a joke on Kritiker? Me getting arrested on drug charges?_

“Sometimes I think not letting her kill me was the mistake,” he murmured, not meeting Aya’s eyes. 

"And you really believe that the Asuka you've talked to us about would have tried to kill you, would have kidnapped my sister, led us into a trap?" 

“Maybe she was brainwashed. You know what those Esset bastards are capable of, so...” he sighed. He’d been over this ground in his own mind over and over. It was useless to travel it anymore. “She’s dead so what difference does it make now anyway?” 

There was a pain forming behind his eyes, the warning of worse things to come. Maybe if he drank enough juice and coffee he could flush the booze out of his system and not get the grandfather of all hangovers his head was promising him. 

He watched as they turned down a street and he realized they were almost back to the safe house and their new team mates. He decided to change the subject. 

“That other kid ever show up?” 

"Yes, about ten minutes after you left. He...he's a bit like I was when I first joined Kritiker. I'm just hoping he doesn't go all the way down that road although it's hard to see how he can avoid it." 

“One yakuza boy, one boy right on the edge of self-destruction. Great,” he muttered. “Sounds like fun,” he added sarcastically. 

Aya parked in his usual spot. "Let's get some water into you and deal with those cuts." 

Yohji nodded, still a little numb from the alcohol in his system, and from Aya’s revelations, from the whole damned night actually. He started to rub his face and stopped himself, looking at the fragments of glass in his left hand. 

“What the hell did I do this time?” 

"You fell onto a broken bottle," Aya told him grimly. "Now let's get you cleaned up and hangover free if we can. I'll even let you smoke while I dress your cuts." 

Yohji nodded, tried to get out of the car and found that standing was still not something in his purview of ability at the moment when he instantly sagged to the street with the world spinning slowly around him. 

He closed his eyes and gave a hard, deliberate swallow. 

Aya sighed and climbed out of his side of the car. He reached Yohji's side, hauled him upright and, with a strong arm round his waist, led him into the kitchen where he sat him on a chair before returning to lock the Porsche and retrieve the first aid kit from the bathroom. 

When Aya reached the kitchen Yohji wasn’t in it alone. Zeshin was standing just inside the doorway staring at the drunken blond who had his head down on the table. He was snoring softly. 

The boy backed away from Aya as the red-head came in, but he paused, frowning. “Do you need help, Fujimiya-san?” 

"My name is Aya and I would appreciate your putting some water on to boil," Aya said politely if not too warmly. "I'm going to need to get plenty of fluid down him but I'll let him sleep while I deal with his cuts." He grimaced slightly. "It saves the air from turning blue." 

He took hold of one of Yohji's hands and turned it palm upwards to reveal the mess before applying a pair of tweezers to the glass shards still embedded in it. 

Yohji muttered something incomprehensible in his sleep, his hand twitching as Aya removed some of the glass. 

Zeshin did as Abyssinian asked, putting a pot of water on the stove to boil. He wondered if he should tell the older Weiss about the phone call or not. After another moment of indecision he said, “Someone called while you were gone.” 

Aya glanced up sharply. "Oh, who?" he asked. It had to be someone from Kritiker. Nobody else had this number. 

“I don’t know who it was. He didn’t give me a name,” the boy replied, his unease becoming even more noticeable to the other assassin. “Only I… think I might know who it was.” 

Aya returned to his task but his whole demeanour had changed and he was now every inch the assassin, his body poised and ready for any sort of action. "Oh?" His tone was totally devoid of emotion but still managed to convey a deadly coldness. 

“I think it might have been Crawford,” the boy replied, fretting with the dish towel. “He said we’re in danger from Rosenkreuz and we don’t have much time before they track us down.” 

At the mention of Crawford’s name Yohji muttered something that sounded very much like ‘bastard’ before he started snoring again. 

"Two questions," Aya said, all business now, "one, how would you know Crawford? And two, how long ago did he phone?" Satisfied that all the glass had been removed from one hand, he picked up the other. "And pour that hot water into a bowl and clean these cuts, please." 

“Deductive reasoning. One, anyone in Kritiker would have identified themselves,” he began. “Two, who else would know about Rosenkreuz? Three, he’s a precog, he probably saw the phone number somehow. He called about three minutes before you arrived. He said he’d be in touch but couldn’t wait around while you confessed secrets to Balinese.” 

The boy got a glass bowl down out of the cabinet and poured the steaming water into it before bringing it to the table. 

Well damn! It certainly sounded like Crawford's style and distorted sense of humour. But why would the Schwarz precog warn them? Last time they'd met they'd tried to kill each other. It made no sense. "Where's Bengal?" he asked. 

“Upstairs.” 

"Does he know about this?" 

Zeshin shook his head negatively, “I wanted to talk to you first. I... wasn’t sure what to do really.” 

Aya thought about it while he continued to dig glass out of Yohji's palm. "You probably did the wisest thing but now I think he needs to know. Will you get him while I wake Yohji? Always supposing that I can...." 

Yohji lifted his head from the table and looked around blearily. ‘I’m awake... What?’ He sat up almost rubbing his face then stopping when he saw the blood. 

The boy turned his head, “Someone just drove up. It sounds like Birman’s car.” He bounded off, moving rapidly, actually hurtling over the couch as if it presented no obstacle at all. “Bengal, come downstairs,” he called to the other boy as he paused by the front door. 

Aya sighed but continued to bathe and dress Yohji's hands. "You'll need to take your pants off so I can deal with your legs," he said. He placed a glass of water by Yohji's bandaged hand. "Drink that. It'll help with the dehydration." 

Yohji stared at the glass of water as if he’d never seen one before. “I’d rather have coffee. And if Birman is here, my pants stay on.” He smiled slightly, “Unless you want to take this upstairs somewhere private.” 

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs before Kai wandered into the room, yawning and dressed in a pair of pyjama bottoms. "What's up?" he asked Zeshin. 

“I think Birman is here,” Zeshin told the other boy as he unlocked the door and looked out into the night. “And I think we got a call from Crawford.” 

"Crawford? Why would he call us?" Kai asked, obviously confused. 

Aya bristled a little at the use of the word ‘us’ but let it go for now. 

“It was a warning,” Zeshin told the other boy. “He said that those Rosenkreuz people are after... Weiss. But I think he meant Abyssinian and Balinese really.” 

"At least roll the damned pants up so I can see to your shins," Aya said to Yohji. "Bengal make Balinese some coffee. It might help him to keep his mind on the present instead of daydreaming!" 

Birman was slightly surprised to be greeted at the door by Singapura. She entered the house and headed directly for the kitchen knowing by the sound of Yohji’s voice that would be where the older Weiss were. 

Singapura returned at that moment with Birman in tow. She looked somewhat grim and Aya guessed that whatever she had to say was not going to be particularly pleasant hearing. "Roll your goddamn pants up, Yohji!" 

“Give me a fucking minute!” Yohji snapped, almost spilling out of the chair when he leaned down to roll up the leg of his trousers. 

Birman frowned and looked at Kudoh. “Drunk I take it?” she asked Aya. 

Singapura stopped where he was in the door of the kitchen rather than get underfoot. 

Aya might have his own, often strongly expressed, views on Yohji's drinking habits but he was not prepared to discuss them with Birman. "He had an accident," he snapped, after shooting her one of his more venomous looks. "I take it this is not a social call." 

Kai, having silently placed a mug of coffee where Yohji could reach it, opted to join Singapura by the door. He didn't think Aya was that angry but even so he was scary enough as he was. 

Birman frowned. She could smell the bourbon and the only one of the team that drank to excess was Kudoh. _Abyssinian is trying to cover for Kudoh. Interesting._ “No it’s not a social call. You have a mission.” She turned and glanced pointedly behind her, “All of you.” 

Zeshin noted the tone of the woman’s voice, crisp and cool. She was upset with them, or probably with Balinese since it was quite clear the man was pickled. 

Yohji picked up the coffee. His hands were starting to hurt. “I’m out,” he muttered. 

Birman turned around and stalked closer to the table, “Guess again!” she snapped at him, “You’re in, drunk or crippled by your own stupidity, you are in!” 

"No choices anymore then, Birman?" Aya asked mildly enough but his eyes were as cold as a polar winter. "Take the missions or take the consequences, is that it?" He turned his attention back to the glass in Yohji's legs. "What's to stop us saying 'fuck the consequences' anyway?" 

“Nothing,” she replied just as coldly. “But what will you do, Abyssinian? Get a job as a salaryman?” She snorted, “And what about Kudoh?” 

Jade eyes regarded her from a face blank of anything. “Why ask him about me? I’m sitting right here.” 

Kai smothered a small gasp as he realized something. The two older men could see no real reason for continuing. There might be no Weiss anymore. 

Zeshin’s amber gaze met Kai’s showing his own growing alarm. 

If Kudoh and Fujimiya walked out, the two of them would be Weiss. 

Aya sighed, knowing there was nothing else for him out there. The last time he'd tried to walk away he'd ended up as a construction worker. "Let's hear it then," he all but snarled. 

Seeing the resignation in the man’s violet eyes Birman nodded in satisfaction. “You’ve come to your senses I see. Good.” She stared frostily at Yohji, “I’m sure he’ll follow your lead so I believe we have that solved.” 

Yohji favoured her with a sour expression. “I’m not his dog, Birman.” 

“No?” She gave him a slight smile that had nothing pleasant in it. 

Having finished with Yohji's legs Aya rose to his feet, shut the first aid kit and tipped away the pink-tinged water before turning to stare bleakly at Birman. 

Zeshin was listening to the conversation between the elder Weiss and Persia’s messenger with alarm. They were almost openly hostile. He hadn’t suspected anything like this and it made him uneasy. 

She pulled the mission package out of her briefcase. “Persia will tell you about the mission,” she told him, turning to head to their small living room. 

Yohji downed his coffee, and refilled the cup, turning a frown on Aya at the mention of ‘Persia’ from the woman. There was no Persia. There was only a computer generated image, and it made him wonder from where-- and from whom-- their missions were coming. 

Aya returned the frown, his own thoughts flowing along similar lines. Unless... no. It was impossible. They'd both seen that lump of concrete bury Omi, Ken and...Farfarello. Crawford would know if the one-eyed psycho had survived. Resolving to talk more to Singapura about Crawford's phone call, he followed Birman into the living room. 

Gripping Aya’s arm Yohji stopped the man while he was still in the kitchen. Dropping his voice to a bare whisper, Yohji said, “We need a contingency plan.” Before he followed Birman into the living room. 

Zeshin had heard him, but the boy kept his mouth closed. The last thing he wanted to do was cross either of the older Weiss, and he was pretty damned sure letting Birman know what Kudoh had said would be regarded in that light. 

“I think we’re about to be screwed,” he murmured very softly to Bengal. 

"Perhaps," Kai murmured back. "But let's wait and see before we go ape-shit." 

Singapura leaned closer to the other boy and whispered, “Trust me, I’m sure about this one.” 

Aya merely nodded his agreement to Yohji and leaned against the wall in his usual mission briefing position. 

Yohji crumpled into a chair, his coffee cradled in his bandaged hands. 

Birman shoved the tape into the player and hit the button to start it. She stepped away from the TV as he initial burst of static resolved itself into the usual darkened office setting. Not the same office though. And the silhouette was totally different than the one they’d expected. 

“Weiss, your mission is to bring down another team in the organization we knew as Esset. They were not the heart of the evil, however. We now know that the real danger is the parent organization, Rosenkreuz.” 

“Those are the ones...” Zeshin shut his mouth quickly, not wanting Birman to know about Crawford’s call until Aya said it was all right to tell her. 

Yohji leaned forward, staring at the TV, the cup of coffee he’d been holding falling out of his hands at the sound of the voice. He knew it. 

“What the fuck...” he whispered. 

"Omi," Aya breathed but said no more until the tape was finished. 

Kai glanced from Yohji to Aya and back again. Something about Persia was bothering both of them and he wondered what it might be. 

“There is a team of operatives from Rosenkreuz working at a children’s summer camp in Hokkaido. Your mission is to infiltrate the summer camp and discover who these operatives are, and what their mission is among the children.” 

“Singapura and Bengal will pose as children going to the camp, we have arranged a cover for Abyssinian as a camp tutor, while Balinese will be a camp activities guide.” 

“Gather as much information as you can on their activities and report back to us when it is safe for you to make contact. Once you have the information Weiss is to end the tomorrows of these dark beasts.” 

The tape came to an end and Birman shut if off, standing and facing the four men. “Any questions?” 

"Just two," Aya said, outwardly calm, "the first being when do we go to Hokkaido? The second is, of course, why were Yohji and I allowed to mourn Omi for all those months when he was actually alive?" 

“You will leave for Hokkaido immediately. Your covers are arranged. Bengal and Singapura will arrive at the camp in four days with the other children, you and Balinese are due there tomorrow.” 

Although the deep voice was calm Kai could sense the underlying fury and shrank back into his chair. He glanced up and saw a really forbidding expression on Yohji's face also and sighed. This was unlikely to be pretty. 

“As far as your second question goes,” she shrugged, “there is no Tsukiyono Omi. He died at the Ani Museum.” 

“If Omi’s dead then who the fuck was that!” Yohji demanded. 

“Persia,” she replied as Zeshin whispered, “Takatori Mamoru.” 

"And what about Siberian?” Yohji asked her, his voice harsh with barely contained rage, “Did he die there too, like Omi?” 

She regarded the angry blond, “Yes, he died exactly like Omi.” 

Yohji came up off the chair and stalked toward the woman, “Son of a fucking bitch!” he snarled at her. “They’re both alive!” 

"Yohji!" Aya's voice was sharp. "Leave it." He turned his icy glare on Birman. "If that's it, leave the arrangements and get the fuck out of here right now. Unless you'd like to explain why we were led to believe that our team mates were dead. No? Then get out. Now." 

Birman glared at the blond, “Listen to him Kudoh,” she told him. 

“Fuck!” Yohji did a good imitation of Ken at that moment, slamming his fist into a wall, cracking the plaster before he stormed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The door of his bedroom slamming shook the cheap pictures on the walls. 

Zeshin hunched down into the couch looking like he wanted to vanish completely. 

Birman tossed the mission packages down on the table, “IDs and tickets are in the packs as are new cell phones that are to be used only on this mission.” 

She walked toward the door, pausing, “This is all for the good of Kritiker,” she said by way of explanation. Then she was gone. 

Aya picked up a covering report from his pack and started to read. "A team of our operatives, led by Siberian, have gone to Austria to investigate rumours that their headquarters are there. Weiss may be needed to take on a mission in Europe, but until then, your mission is to… " 

Aya's eyes narrowed. The good of Kritiker! What about Yohji's good or his? Ken must think them both dead. He was too open and honest to accept such a subterfuge if he believed them to be alive. Omi/Mamoru was another matter entirely. The boy had always been pragmatic, doing what had to be done and then smiling and laughing as if nothing had happened. And he'd thought it was denial. Shit! 

A slight movement returned his attention to the room and the two boys who were trying hard to be invisible in the face of his and Yohji's anger. He shook his head, trying to clear it and get back into mission focus. 

"Can either of you drive legally?" he asked. 

“Hai, Fujimiya-san,” Zeshin replied so softly the older Weiss could barely hear him. 

Aya threw Seven's keys at him. "It's parked at Mayaki Park. We won't have time to collect it. Will you make sure it gets to a safe storage garage for him, please?" 

Kai raised a tentative hand. "I can take him there. I'm legal too." 

Aya nodded. "Good," he said. "I'll see you both on Hokkaido in four days."


	4. Hokkaido Mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrryhn

Yohji pushed his sunglasses farther up his nose and watched the group of boys playing baseball. He was in dire need of a smoke and a beer, and was cut off from both, worse, he was hot, sweaty and wearing a pair of shorts and a camp guide’s polo shirt, and feeling totally out of his element. Sports had been Ken’s thing, not his. He barely knew what baseball was all about, and had been studying the rules for two days just to be able to fake it. 

Zeshin was seated under a tree, chatting quietly with another boy and a pair of girls who looked very much as if they were hanging on his every word. 

The blond hadn’t noticed it before-- probably because he’d been too annoyed with Kritiker for assigning the new kids to Weiss-- but Zeshin was very attractive. Pale and painfully shy, but the girls followed him around, mooning over him. 

It was just as bad with Kai, the girls following him like moths dancing around a candle. 

It made him sad, bringing back memories of the fangirls that had tormented them at the Koneko. And it hurt because after all these months of sorrow for their lost team mates they weren’t even dead. He felt numb, betrayed, and he was fairly sure Aya felt the same way. 

Aya brought his literature workshop to an end and stared out of the window at the backs of the departing kids. He was still brooding over Omi's deception and the fact that the little shit had lied to all three of his so-called family. He doubted if he would ever forgive him. 

On a happier note, both Bengal and Singapura had taken well to their roles and were settled in nicely with the other kids. Given enough time he might even accept them as part of the team. Trust, right now, was out of the question. He could trust nobody, not even Yohji, anymore. He'd trusted in Weiss and look where that had gotten him. 

Yohji glanced at his watch. Lunch time and his first real break of the day. His first real chance to speak with Aya. He blew the whistle hanging on the cord around his neck and motioned the kids toward the large hall where meals were served. “That’s it, head to lunch!” he shouted. 

Laughing and being loud the kids put the baseball gear back into the box where it went and Yohji stepped into the cool shade of Aya’s classroom. 

“God, I want a cigarette so bad,” he told the red-head as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Fucking people sending me here.” 

"It's our half day. If you stop whining I might be prepared to drive you out into the countryside so you can have a smoke or three," Aya said with the merest hint of a smile. "Besides, we need to compare notes away from prying eyes and minds." 

Something dark and unpleasant surfaced in Yohji’s eyes. “Yeah, we do,” he agreed, the look telling Aya he’d discovered something they dared not talk about near the campground. 

Zeshin darted in, glanced at the pair of men, and smiled shyly, playing the schoolboy nicely. He bowed to both of them, “I brought my assignment, Fujimiya-sensei,” he said as he walked up to Aya and placed a notebook on the man’s desk. 

His amber gaze flicked to the window subtly, and the red-haired man could see another boy standing outside not too far away. 

“Come on Yukio, we’re going to miss getting lunch if you don’t hurry!” 

"Thank you, Yukio." Aya said nodding slightly to let Zeshin know he'd got the message. "If you should see Jin on your travels, perhaps you could let him know....his assignment is also due." 

"He can leave it until this evening as I shall be off the camp grounds for the afternoon. In fact both of you could have that extra tutelage I promised if you stop by my room at around nine pm." 

Zeshin bowed, “I will tell him Fujimiya-sensei.” He walked out, keeping to the slow pace his poor health was supposed to keep him to for their cover. 

Sure he'd got his message across, Aya packed up his materials and led the way to his Porsche. 

Yohji followed Aya, only too glad at the thought of getting away from the hoard of kids and the sun for the rest of the day. As soon as Aya had the door open the blond poured himself into the seat and reached for the glove compartment where he had his smokes. 

Aya started the car and drove away from the camp. "That bad, huh?" he asked with a very slight grin. When he was several miles away and parked up in deep woodland he turned off the engine and glanced at Yohji. "What have you got?" 

Yohji got out of the car and lit up, taking a long drag of his smoke before he answered. “Yeah that bad,” he admitted taking a second long slow inhale. He held out his hand to Aya so the other man could see how badly he was shaking. “Going cold turkey like this is killing me,” he explained. Aya knew he wasn’t talking about the cigarettes either. 

“Other than the shakes what I’ve is an invitation to a special meeting with Miya. She says she can help me, and that she knows I’m--“ he frowned, “not well.” 

Aya's heart sank. Another damned woman was going to be involved in Yohji's life. "Do you think she's a Rosenkreuz agent?" he asked quietly. And if she was, what sort of damage could she do inside Yohji's head? God, how he hated Omi, or Mamoru, at this moment. 

“I’d bet Seven that she’s Rosenkreuz, Aya. She made my skin crawl.” He stared at his cigarette, “Ever feel like a fly in a web? Her smile made me think of a spider.” 

Aya nodded. He'd had a similar response to his immediate superior, but had put it down to his normal dislike of most of the female gender. To hear Yohji, of all people, say the same thing was disturbing. 

"Are you intending to take her up on her offer?" he asked. 

Yohji looked morose as he nodded. “Mission and all that shit,” he muttered. “I just...” he crushed the butt of the cigarette out under his sneaker and stared into the distance of memory. His voice was a pained whisper as he said, “I don’t like missions with women as targets.” 

"If she is a target, I'll deal with her," Aya said. "I know you prefer to protect women rather than harm them." He was silent for a moment, gazing off into the trees. "Do you think she is like Schwarz with their sort of powers?" 

“Our mission brief said we’d be encountering more like Schwarz, but I don’t know about her for certain. She probably isn’t the only woman we’ll have to take down Aya. I can’t expect you to handle it every time we have to kill a woman. I know what you’ve been doing for me, and...” His voice trailed off, something pained and sad in his eyes, “I love you for trying to shield me from that kind of pain.” 

He turned to face Aya making an abrupt change of the subject, because he’d used a word he still wasn’t sure Aya could hear and not react negatively over. “What did the kid give you?” 

Aya had heard Yohji but, apart from a strange little lurch in his gut and a feeling of warmth flowing through him, he didn't react. Time for all that when they weren't locked into undercover personas. 

"Some of the kids here are...different than the others. Gifted perhaps or having some other reason for Rosenkreuz' interest. Bengal and Singapura have been pointing them out to me. Interestingly enough, Singapura won't go anywhere near the soccer coach as his... instincts are screaming at him that the man is a 'talent' of some kind." 

“Well at least his cover gives him a reason to stay clear of the guy. Yohji walked around the car to stand closer to Aya, looking down at his team mate’s pale violet eyes. “So we’ve got the soccer coach, your boss and the senior counsellor.” He pulled another cigarette from the dwindling pack and lit it, his expression thoughtful as he thought about the slim information they had. 

“I’ve noticed a couple of the kids do act...” he frowned, “different. Not that they don’t act like other kids, but they aren’t like them. Do you follow me?” 

"Yes, I've seen it in my workshops. Hard to put a finger on but somehow they remind me of Naoe Nagi, quiet, reserved..." He shivered slightly. "They're somewhat unnerving. Whether they're victims or participants is hard to decide, so Singapura and Bengal are trying to find out. It may be that they are the reason for this place being here, that they're being subtly recruited." 

“Or maybe the kids are here to help recruit others. Like that boy, Sugase Goemon. He’s the stocky kid that studies with you in the morning. He’s got a nasty temper, almost reminds me of Ken but other than that he pretty much keeps to himself. Anyway, he got angry and kicked a tree and it sent bark flying. I don’t think Ken could have done what this kid did. 

“Now the reason I think he’s helping recruit is the fact I’ve seen him watching Zeshin. He never gets too close, but he keeps pretty close tabs on him, like he suspects something.” 

Aya sighed in frustration. "I just wish we knew more about Rosenkreuz. Obviously their agenda is similar to Esset's, world domination through the use of psychics and mind control but to what end?" He gave Yohji a sidelong glance, wondering how he would react to the idea he'd had. 

"We do know people who would know," he said slowly, "and they do seem to want to be free of Esset and Rosenkreuz." 

The blond’s jade gaze regarded Aya, incredulity changing to serious consideration that blossomed into grudging acquiescence. “Kritiker won’t like it you know, but what we don’t tell them can’t hurt us either.” He leaned against Aya’s car, cigarette dangling out of his mouth, “The question is, how to contact them? It’s not like we can look them up in the phone book, can we?” 

"Schuldig is a telepath. He would hear if we sent word. I...I block him most of the time. I think Crawford can see my future, but Schuldig can't get into my head. It bothers me sometimes. Makes me wonder if I'm like them. What I'm saying here is that I could let Schuldig in, let him read me, rather than try to send thoughts to him. The novelty of getting in my head at all should attract him." 

There was nothing pleasant in the expression Yohji turned on Aya, “Are you nuts? Giving that psychotic German access to your mind would like sticking lit dynamite in your ear.” 

He dropped his cigarette and gripped Aya’s upper arms, finger digging painfully into the man’s biceps as he shook him as if he wanted to rattle some sense into his team mate, “Not. A. Fucking. Chance!” 

Aya pulled away, rubbing automatically at the bruises on his arms. "It's my mind, Yohji, so it's my decision. And, like it or not, we need help!" 

The blonde looked stricken, “Aya...” the man’s name came out a broken whisper, “if something happens to you...” 

In the blink of an eye the pain was gone, replaced by the slightly angered mask of Yohji’s mission face. “Yeah, sure. Good idea.” 

He backed away, picking up his dropped cigarette and sticking it back into his mouth, his back to Aya. He didn’t know what to do anymore, didn’t know what to say to get the hard headed man to understand. One minute Aya was confessing feeling for him, the next he was pushing him away. 

Confused, lost, Yohji did the only thing he could. He shut off his feelings for the man. It would only interfere with their mission anyway, and that was all that really mattered to Aya right now. The fucking mission. 

"Yohji...please, look at it from my perspective. If you're intending to put your self at risk by accepting that woman's help, I need to be sure that you'll come to no harm by doing so. I can't protect you from a 'talent'. Only another 'talent' can do that. And, whether we want them or not, we are responsible for Singapura and Bengal." 

“Aya, we’re all risking our lives here. You, those kids, me. That never changes, we’re Weiss and whether we like it or not, so are they now.” 

“I just don’t think Schwarz is going to do anything but fuck with us the way they always have.” He turned a very pragmatic look on Aya, “But you’re right, we don’t stand a snowball’s chance on a stove if we’re up against talents like Schwarz. Sure we held our own at the Ani, more or less...” he sighed, “mostly less, but I think we’re way out of our depth here.” 

He took another pull of the cigarette, “But, let me be the one to try getting their attention. If they don’t hear me or choose not to, well then you can give it a try.” 

Aya shook his head. "You're not listening to me, Yohji. For you to get their attention, you would need to actually project your thoughts. Any 'talent' here would pick that up instantly and your cover would be blown. All I have to do is drop my shields. That should go unnoticed long enough to get Schuldig's attention. It's less of a risk." 

"I don't believe, when he sees what we're doing here, that he will mess with my mind the way he did with...Omi's." 

“Aya you don’t know what that prick might do.” He frowned, “And what makes you think Schuldig would even notice you anyway? We don’t even know where in hell Schwarz is. They could be anywhere. But I’ll ask this again, why would he even notice? 

"Because my mind interests him, purely because he can't get in. He'll notice." 

“And when are you planning this little mental rendezvous?” 

"We could do it now. We're far enough away from the camp on our free afternoon not to attract any attention." 

Aya swallowed hard, never comfortable with his emotions. "I'd rather you were with me when I try...just in case anything goes wrong." 

Yohji nodded, “I’d rather I was with you too, Aya.” He stared at nothing again for a moment before adding, “What I’d rather is that you don’t do it at all.” He glanced back down the road toward the camp, “You’re worried about them sensing me, and I think that’s a bit stupid, I’m not a talent so what’s to sense?” 

He considered his next words carefully, “Maybe Schuldig’s fascination with you might have a good cause. Have you considered you just might be like them? A talent?” 

“Consider this too. We were told Zeshin is a lab experiment performed by his parents. But we weren’t told exactly who his parents worked for, were we?” 

Aya nodded, taking all Yohji's points and arguments on board. Zeshin was special, a sort of talent in his own right. And Yohji, with the way he picked up on their feelings, was obviously more than normally empathic. But he was still the leader, the one who would make the decisions and take the risks. As for his being a talent, hadn't he held his own against both Crawford and Farfarello? Hadn't he spotted Schuldig, hiding and manipulating, the night Ouka had died? Hadn't his sister been chosen by the elders because she didn't age in her coma? There was obviously something in his genetic make-up. Something that he kept buried beneath carefully constructed shields. 

"I know there is something about me that is not dissimilar to Schwarz," he said. "I've known it for some time and deliberately tried to ignore it. But if we are expected to walk into the lion’s den then I need to face whatever it is and learn how to use it." 

“When do we do this? Now? Here?” Yohji asked. He really didn’t like the idea, but Aya had too many points and there was no denying how deep the water they were treading was getting. This was far over their heads and he was worried they were going to sink. 

It was a worry he’d had since they’d seen the tape Birman had brought. Omi alive playing Persia. 

But that hadn’t been Omi. The young man’s voice had been cool and too hard for the boy he remembered. 

Takatori, his mind had whispered that night. Not Tsukiyono Omi. No, that had been a Takatori speaking to them. 

So much had changed since the Ani collapsed into the waves. 

He looked into Aya’s pale violet eyes. Without giving the other man any warning he grabbed him and placed a burning kiss on his mouth. 

Aya went stiff as a board for all of a second before melting into Yohji's kiss and wrapping his arms around the taller man. He knew it was dangerous to let any sort of relationship, outside of professional, develop between them but it was already too late. He craved Yohji's warmth like a moth craved light. 

One of Yohji’s hands wandered down Aya’s back, coming to rest on the man’s hard ass. He backed Aya against the car, the kiss getting even more heated until he broke it off, gasping for breath, his stiff cock pressing Aya’s hipbone. Jade eyes were warmed by lust as he caressed the man’s cheek. 

“Just in case we buy it this time, I want you to know something,” Yohji told him, his voice gone harsh from the passion hammering through his body, beating in his racing pulse. “I want you. I have for over a year, but I knew there wasn’t any hope or any chance for a relationship. Not with you, not for me. You said things in the car that night I got drunk that made me realize you wanted me as much as I wanted you.” 

He brushed his thumb over Aya’s bottom lip, traced the shape of his mouth. “I keep having this dream. You’re bloody and unmoving, not breathing, lying on the concrete with your katana still clutched in your hand. It scares the shit out of me, Aya because I know if you’re gone there’s nothing left for me in this whole shitty world but a piece of wire around my own neck and a fast drop into the dark.” 

Aya's breath came in shuddering gasps as Yohji pulled away. He wanted to grab him, to keep him held close against his body, but now Yohji was speaking. It took him a second or two to make sense of what the blond was saying but when he did he pressed a finger against Yohji's lips to silence him. 

"You think I don't have the same damned nightmares?" he growled. "Why do you think I tried to stay so aloof? We both seek death every day, every night that we fight as Weiss. We're both living on borrowed time. The question is, what are we going to do with that time?" 

Yohji lowered his head to breathe in the scent of the man in his arms, “You’re going to let Schuldig find you, and then we’re going to find a hotel room and fuck until we have to return to our miserable job of catching dark beasts for Kritiker, that’s what we’re going to do.” And the tone that the blond used showed he wasn’t going to accept any deviation from his plan. 

Aya nodded his agreement, having too many similar desires to even contemplate arguing. He leaned against Yohji for a moment before pulling right away and letting his mental shields drop. 

*Ach! We were wondering how long it would take you to figure out how to contact us.* Schuldig's mental voice held no trace of his usual sneer. *There is much that you need to know. Bring Balinese and meet us at the Sapporo Hilton tomorrow night. On no account are you to bring Singapura. Bengal is better out of the loop until we can come up with some plans. But on no account should Balinese take up the woman's offer!* 

The link was cut abruptly and Aya came back to himself with a gasp. 

Yohji wrapped his arms around Aya, steadying the younger man. It had taken hardly a few seconds before the man was looking at him again. The words speed of thought came to mind and he frowned. “You okay? I’d ask if you made contact, but I get the feeling you did just from the look on your face.” 

"I'm fine." There was the usual impatience with anyone fussing over him. "They want you and I to meet them in Sapporo tomorrow night. At the Hilton Hotel there." He frowned. "Singapura must not know of the meeting and you are to stay away from Miya. You must not accept her offer of help." 

He sighed, tired of it all. "Let's go to that hotel that you were talking about." 

“What about the mission? We can’t just walk out of the camp tomorrow night. I’m supposed to be on evening shift to watch over the kids.” 

He shook his head, “And why can’t we tell Singapura?” he relented almost immediately, “Yeah, let’s find that hotel and forget all this crap for a while,” he agreed giving Aya another kiss before he walked to the passenger’s side of the car. “I don’t even want to think about any of this, but I don’t know how I’m going to get out of meeting with Miya. She’ll be expecting me. I’ll at least have to talk to her and tell her I don’t need any help.” 

Aya climbed into the car and turned to stare at Yohji. "Do what normal workers do," he said, "swap shifts with someone!" 

“I’ll ask, Aya, but I don’t know if anyone will trade with me.” He rubbed his chin, “I’ll need a good story about why I need the night off. Maybe tell them I need to wire some money to my mother or something. I’ll figure it out.” 

Aya turned the ignition and pulled onto the road. "As for Miya, when is your meeting?" 

“Tonight at around ten, after all the kids are asleep.” 

Damn! Yohji would see her before their meeting with Schwarz. "Just stall her for a while," he said. "Tell her you'll think about it or something." 

“Yeah. Sure Aya,” he agreed, wondering exactly what the German asshole had said to his team mate to spook the man so bad. 

"I mean it, Yohji. Schuldig was quite emphatic about it. You must not accept her offer of help. I'm guessing that Crawford has seen something about it." 

He drove for a short while. "Er...which hotel are we going to?" 

“Wherever you like. I’ve got money,” Yohji told the other man. “I just want air conditioning and a nice soft bed.” He grinned, “That and a bottle of lube and I’m set.” 

Aya produced one of his rare blushes at that remark. He was as impatient as Yohji in his own way. "Local town then," he said. 

* * * * * * * 

The doors of the elevator had barely closed on them before Yohji had Aya pinned to the wall, his mouth clamped to Aya’s in a kiss that bordered somewhere between possessive and pure desperation. A hand splayed across Aya’s ass, fingers gripping to half lift the red-haired man off his feet. 

A quiet ping heralded their arrival on the correct floor and Aya pushed Yohji away until they could reach their room. He did however grab Yohji's hand and pull him down the corridor, impatient to find the right room. 

Yohji swiped the key card through the lock when they reached their room, the blond shoving the door open with his foot as he pulled Aya inside, hauling the smaller man to him tightly as he kicked the door shut. 

It hadn’t even swung fully closed and he was already pulling Aya’s shirt off over the younger man’s head. “I want to feel your skin,” he said as he bent down to gently bite Aya at the juncture of neck and shoulder, his tongue sweeping across the pale skin as he wrapped both arms around the red-head and lifted him totally off his feet. 

For once in his life, Aya gave in to his desires and, with a small whimper of lust, clung to Yohji, letting the older man do whatever he wanted. 

He didn't find it particularly easy to lose this much of his self-control, but something was telling him that this was the only way to go if he really wanted to enjoy the experience. 

The blonde wasn’t wasting any time. They only had a few hours and he intended for them to be hours that neither of them would ever forget. He broke contact with Aya’s skin and set the man down, dropping to his knees in front of Aya. 

“I want to see all of you, every inch,” he almost growled as he reached for the button of Aya’s pants, opening them and yanking down the zipper in an almost fierce display of lust. 

The pants and underwear were pulled down, freeing and exposing him to Yohji’s burning gaze. 

He stood, naked and trembling, his hands buried in Yohji's wavy hair. Then some sense reasserted itself. "Why am I the only one naked here?" 

“Because I’m worshiping the beauty of your cock at the moment, Aya.” Yohji licked his lips at the hard cock right in front of his nose before he opened his mouth and darted his tongue out to lap gently at the bead of precum he saw glistening like a drop of candy just for him. 

Aya gasped at the almost forgotten sensations that were running through his body from that one point where Yohji's tongue was lapping at his cock. His fingers clenched, grabbing handfuls of Yohji's hair before he forced himself to relax them rather than hurt...his lover. Those two words were novel but he didn't have the time, or the inclination, to consider them right now. 

The blond swept his tongue over the head of Aya’s cock, tasting him, a pleased smile on his lips as he felt the swordsman’s hands clutching tightly in his hair. The bit of slight pain made his already hard cock jump in reaction. 

He stopped what he was doing to blow cool air across the dampness he’d left, teasing a bit before he opened his mouth and swallowed Aya down in a single swift movement. 

One of Aya's hands moved from Yohji's hair to his shoulder in order to steady himself. He resisted the urge to simply fuck Yohji's mouth and instead let the blonde take the lead. A small part of his mind was screaming at him about his lack of control but he calmly told it to take a jump in the lake. 

Gripping Aya’s butt with one hand to help steady his team mate, Yohji slid his mouth along Aya’s erection, licking and sucking, a soft moan of pleasure vibrating through his lover’s cock as he let Aya hear his enjoyment of what he was doing. 

And Yohji did enjoy it. It felt good to be on his knees with Aya’s cock in his mouth after so many months of wanting just that. 

He took the full length of Aya in, feeling the head slide along the back of his throat as his nose rested in the bright red pubic hair. He reached up with his free hand and caressed the man’s balls, rubbing gently to increase the pleasure he was giving Aya. 

A shudder passed through him and a few tears seeped from his jade eyes. His Aya. His and his alone for as long as they had together. 

He clamped his will down, refusing to ruin what they were sharing with fears of the future. There could only be now. Aya’s cock in his mouth, his hands on the pale skin. The taste of Aya on his tongue. 

Now. This moment. It had to be theirs forever. 

Because there might not be a tomorrow. 

Above him, Aya gasped and moaned at the pleasure that was building in him. A pleasure long forgotten and ignored only to reawaken with a vengeance now. Pleasure more intense than any he had ever felt before even with Yuushi. "Yohji," he gasped, "Yohji, I'm going to...." Then his world dissolved into pure, unadulterated bliss as he spilled into the warmth of Yohji's mouth with a cry. 

He swallowed Aya’s cum, enjoying the taste and feel of it as it spilled into his mouth, gently licking and sucking until the flesh was totally limp. 

Then he got to his feet and kissed Aya hard, pulling the man tightly to him as if trying to merge their skin, flesh and bone into a single being. 

Panting, jade eyes hot with desire he caressed Aya’s cheek, “Are you mine Aya?” 

Aya returned to a sense of his surroundings just in time to hear Yohji's question. "Yours," he said quietly, knowing it was the truth, "and you're mine." He pushed Yohji back onto the bed, quickly straddling his hips to keep him there. "Mine and mine alone. No more damned women!" His voice was fierce and his eyes intent as he stared down at the beautiful man beneath him. Then he leaned forward and planted a searing kiss on Yohji's lips. 

Yohji wrapped his arms around the younger man, his lips parting under the assault of Aya’s mouth, their tongues sparring, wrestling, tasting and touching. The blond groaned and rubbed his still clothed groin against Aya’s ass, enjoying the teasing he was putting himself through. 

Aya broke off the kiss and lifted his head to gaze down at Yohji. "Clothes off, Kudoh," he growled and started tugging at the blonde's shirt. 

“As my master orders,” the blond replied, grinning. Yohji fairly ripped his shirt off, tossing it aside. He kicked off his shoes and reached for the button of his shorts. 

But Aya slapped his hands away and undid the button himself, pulling at the sides of the shorts to let the zip open as he slowly unpeeled them. He then climbed off Yohji and eased shorts and boxers down Yohji's legs and off, dropping them on the floor as he gazed at the blonde's body for the first time. "Beautiful," he breathed. 

Yohji smiled, the faintest touch of colour rising to his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed, but Aya brought one to his face just the way he’d said the single word. 

“I’m glad you approve,” he murmured, teasing, as he ran his hands over Aya’s thighs, feeling hard muscle under his hands and liking it. 

“Oh, and Aya, about no women?’ He grinned, “I’ll agree on one condition.” 

Aya's eyes narrowed slightly as they rose to Yohji's face. "What condition is that?" he demanded, death glare firmly in place. 

Yohji saw the look on his lover’s face, the man’s beauty capturing his heart in an unbreakable trap as it had done from the first day he’d met the man. He found himself wondering why he’d never just told Aya how he felt, why he threw himself at woman after woman. 

“Never leave me, Aya. Promise you won’t leave me,” he murmured, reaching up to touch the man’s face. “You can be as much of a bastard to me as you want or need to be, just don’t leave me.” 

Aya's face softened at Yohji's words. "I promise I won't leave you," he said, "and I'll try not to be too much of a bastard." He stretched out along the side of the older man and pressed their bodies together, loving the feel of Yohji's skin against his own. 

Yohji rolled onto his side and gazed into Aya’s eyes, “Fine. Now I’ll make a couple of promises to you. First no more women and second..” he took a deep breath, “no more getting drunk.” 

Aya shook his head. "No, Yohji," he said softly, "if you want a few beers, that's fine. Just...if you're drinking just to stop the pain, come and talk to me instead." 

Yohji moved just far enough that he could kiss the side of Aya’s neck, "I’m becoming an alcoholic, I’ve got to quit before it kills me.” He took Aya into his embrace and gently kissed the man’s face, “If I’ve got you I won’t need the booze anymore.” 

"You've got me," Aya whispered back, "I simply never realized it before." 

“Good. Now shut the fuck up and kiss me,” he ordered as he dragged the red-haired man closer and locked their mouths together in a fiercely passionate kiss. 

Aya sighed but responded to the kiss with equal fervor, giving in to sensation rather than thinking too much. 

For a while all Yohji did was kiss the red-head, his hands roaming the man’s body, caressing and touching, reveling in the feel of the pale skin under his palms. 

Yohji’s cock was pressed to Aya’s thigh, leaving damp smears there while he waited for the younger man to recover from the orgasm he’d experienced. They had hours until they’d need to return to the campground, and Yohji intended to spend as much of that time in bed with his lover as he could. 

He almost felt giddy at the words. Aya was his lover. 

A moan slipped free as he rolled on top of the smaller man, their mouths still locked in an impassioned kiss. 

Aya's cock was hardening again as the kiss went on. He wanted Yohji to do something, anything. Then the blonde moaned and rolled on top of him and Aya's cock jumped in anticipation. 

Yohji broke the kiss. “Tell me what you want, Aya,” he said as he lowered his head to gently tongue one of Aya’s nipples, feeling the small nub harden. He took it between his teeth and pulled on it, not enough to really hurt, but enough to pinch a tiny bit. 

"What I want," Aya repeated slowly. He rolled suddenly, taking Yohji with him until their positions were reversed. "What I want is either you inside me or me inside you, I don't give a damn which it is, right now." 

Yohji smiled up at the violet-eyed man. He slid an hand down Aya’s back, a finger slipping into the crack of Aya’s ass, teasing. “Do you like being fucked, Aya? Do you like not being in control of what happens to you?” 

The blond lifted his head just enough to be able to kiss Aya’s jaw, mouth working down the pale line of his throat as he murmured, “Or are you afraid of that? Is that why you ran from me for so long?” 

"No," Aya said, "I'm not afraid of losing control. It might even be interesting to see what it's like to lose control." How could he explain to Yohji that neither Kikyou nor Yuushi had ever had the capacity to make him lose himself even when they'd fucked him. He had always retained something of himself, his core focus. Somehow, though, he believed that Yohji would be very different. He'd already proved that with a simple blow job. How much more of himself would he lose if he let Yohji fuck him? 

The blond man smiled, nipping Aya’s chest gently, “I want to fuck you, Aya. I want to watch you lose yourself in pleasure. Is that what you want?” 

He didn’t even wait for Aya’s answer before he reached for the bottle of lube in the pocket of his discarded shorts. 

Aya watched Yohji's enthusiasm with some trepidation. Although this was an afternoon apart they were still on a mission and they still needed to keep some focus. 

"Yohji, I'm not sure if this is such a good idea," he said almost desperately. 

The light went out of Yohji’s gaze as if someone had doused a flame with a bucket of water and he sat back on the bed his entire demeanour changed, going cool. 

“I see,” he murmured, voice without any of the warmth and joy that had been in it only a moment ago. He dropped the lube on the bed and grabbed his shorts, heading for the bathroom. 

"Yohji, wait! I just... yeah okay, I am afraid of losing control. It's my problem and I need to get over it. Just take it a bit slower, okay?" 

It had been so painful to see the light of joy die so quickly in Yohji's eyes. He felt like a complete bastard now. 

The blond paused at the bathroom door, “Are you mine or not Aya? I need to know what I should expect. If you aren’t mine,” he shook his head, “then we aren’t taking this another step. You wanted a promise from me, and I gave it to you. No women. But you have to keep your promise to me or this is over right now.” 

There was nothing in Yohji’s voice. No emotion, no feeling at all because the man had gone numb and empty inside the instant Aya had expressed doubts. Yohji unconsciously touched the tattoo on his upper arm. 

You’ll never learn. Never. He could feel what little light remained in his world slowly draining, as if every colour in existence had suddenly gone grey. 

Aya took a deep breath. Whether he liked it or not, he had told Yohji the truth. He was his in every possible way. So what was he so afraid of? 

"I am yours, Yohji. I'm just nervous is all." 

“You? Nervous?” Yohji shook his head incredulous at the idea of anything making Aya nervous. He tossed his shorts down on a chair and returned to the bed taking a seat and just looking at Aya. 

“Do you think it would be easier for you to fuck me this time? You’d be in control, not me.” 

"I don't know," Aya said honestly, "I've never fucked anyone before. I was always on the receiving end." He smiled, suddenly realizing that he wanted to try it. "Can't be that difficult, surely." 

Yohji smiled slightly and reached out for Aya pulling the smaller man close, to nuzzle his neck and kiss him. “I never really pictured you as the bottom, Aya. You’ve always been so controlled.” He laughed a little, breathing in the smell of his lover. Masculine with a hint of sweetness from his hair. 

“I think you’ll like it,” he said. “Just let your instincts take over, your body knows what it wants when it wants it Aya.” He picked up the tube of lubricant from the bed and put it in Aya’s hands. 

And suddenly Aya was shaking again. Whichever way they did this he was going to lose control. He just knew it. Why was he so afraid of it? 

Giving the lube back to Yohji, he lay back on the bed and opened his legs... 

Yohji sighed and climbed onto the bed to kneel between Aya’s spread thighs. “You sure? I really do like being fucked.” 

"I'm sure. When I do fuck you I want it to be good and right now I'm too nervous to make it good." Tired of talking, he reached up and pulled Yohji's head down to kiss him desperately. "I want you," he breathed into Yohji's mouth, "I want you right now." 

Yohji nodded, squirted some lube on his own fingers and then and put the bottle in Aya’s hand, “I want you to put this on me. I want to feel your touch, Aya.” 

Safely on known territory again, Aya took the bottle willingly and squirted some lube into his palm. He reached out and took the hard, silk-skinned length of Yohji's cock in that palm and spread the lube over it. He couldn't help but tease the head and weeping slit there just a little. 

“Gods Aya,” Yohji moaned, “that feels so damned good.” 

He leaned down and kissed his lover again, his tongue delving into Aya’s mouth as if he were starving and the only thing that could serve as sustenance was the red-head’s kisses. 

His mind called him twenty kinds of fool, but Yohji didn’t listen. He wanted and needed this too much. Even if Aya walked away from him and they never shared such intimacy again he would have the memory of what they were doing. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Yohji knew this was the one and only time they would be together. The knowledge hurt, but he wouldn’t walk away from it. Not now. Not when he had what he’d been longing for so long in his grasp. 

Going slow and easy he pressed a finger to Aya’s ass, feeling how tight the man was as he slid a finger into the red-haired man. “Do you want me, Aya?” he asked without totally breaking the kiss. 

"I want you, Yohji," Aya whispered. "Body and soul, I want you." Why those words, he didn't know, but he knew they were true. 

Yohji smiled, “You can’t put me back, and there’s a strict no return policy where you got me,” Yohji replied. 

Meanwhile, Yohji's clever fingers were doing unspeakably wonderful things to him and, although it had been a long time, his body relaxed completely and let them enter easily. 

Changing position slightly, Yohji lifted Aya’s knees over his shoulders and slid his cock into Aya, his eyes going veiled behind gold tipped lashes. “Oh gods...” he breathed out as he felt the tightness engulf him inch by slow inch. 

Aya gasped as Yohji gradually filled him. He had just begun to wonder if he could take anymore when Yohji stopped, withdrew slightly, then pushed back in, hitting his prostate in the process. Aya groaned in pleasure and clung to Yohji like a limpet to a rock. 

The blond captured Aya’s next moan in a kiss, his hips moving very slowly, his own soft cry of pleasure vibrating down Aya’s throat. 

It felt good. Deliriously unbelievably incredible to be seated to the hilt in Aya. 

He pulled back, shuddering at the exquisite torment of a slow fuck when what he wanted was to pound himself into Aya. But he had more control than to throw away the chance to drive Aya mad with passion. 

Forcing his eyes open he watched Aya’s face as he sank deeply into his lover’s yielding body. 

This was torture, sweet torture, but torture nonetheless. Yohji was moving slowly and unerringly hitting his prostate again and again. His cock was so hard it hurt and there seemed to be no end to the pleasure. He felt his control slipping and started to buck his hips in an effort to get Yohji to move more quickly. 

"Yohji, please, fuck me already." 

The blond chuckled softly, “I am fucking you, Aya. I’m just trying to enjoy myself.” He kissed his lover and relented, his hips jerking forward harder, stepping up the pace. 

The additional speed and friction was enough to send Aya over the edge and he came hard and fast, pumping ribbons of semen over his and Yohji's belly's. He cried out either in ecstasy or agony, he wasn't sure which, and still Yohji was driving into him, hitting his sweet spot. He moaned and whimpered and his head thrashed from side to side as the pressure mounted yet again. 

Yohji was worried he was hurting Aya. Very few men could endure being fucked once they’d come, “Aya, are you all right? Should I stop?” 

But Aya was too far gone to answer him, all control gone. He was totally Yohji's now and strangely it didn't terrify him. "Don't stop," he finally managed. 

That was the only answer Yohji needed, he drove his cock into Aya, letting his own control slip and fall away as the pleasure of being inside Aya, of fucking Aya took him higher, the sensation of heat coiling inside him increasing. 

Gasping from the effort, Yohji rocked his entire body, hips driving him closer with each stroke until he groaned out his lover’s name and spilled himself into Aya’s body, a shudder passing through him, pinwheels of light spinning in his vision. 

Aya wondered if he was going crazy. What the hell was he doing in a European castle with people in Western medieval clothes milling about? Then Yohji groaned out his name and he was back in the hotel room with his sated lover in his arms. He kissed Yohji, glad to be back where he was supposed to be. 

The blond was trembling as if he’d fought his way through a hoard of thugs to reach an illusive target. Disoriented he eased Aya’s legs down and just lay on his lover, letting the room slow and gradually come to a stop. 

“Damn...” he whispered as the hotel room solidified in his sight. 

Well that was a weird reaction, Aya thought. "Damn?" he asked tentatively. "Was I that bad?" The thought hurt and he started pushing at Yohji, wanting to be dressed, less fucking vulnerable. 

“No, Aya. It was..” Yohji shook his head, “unfuckingbelievable.” He kissed the younger man and pulled him close, ignoring his struggles. “Just relax. I want to just hold you a minute. Please?” 

Aya stopped struggling and melted against Yohji again. His arms returned the embrace and his head found a comfortable spot against Yohji's shoulder. "What was the 'damn' about then?" he asked. 

“It felt good,” Yohji replied. He didn’t want to tell Aya that for the briefest instant the walls of the hotel had vanished and he’d thought he was seeing weirdly dressed ghosts and stone walls. 

Satisfied with Yohji's answer, Aya snuggled against him for the time they had left.


	5. Blackened Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Brad Crawford, leader of Schwarz, was staring unseeing at nothing and had been doing so for the last twenty minutes. Fine beads of sweat were starting to form on his forehead and upper lip. The knuckles of his hands where he gripped the arms of the hotel room chair where white from strain as the visions spun through his mind, finally slowing. 

He blinked, let go of the chair and sighed, finally relaxing slightly. 

“Weiss is in danger,” he said quietly to the red-haired man sitting across the room from him. “We’re going to have to handle it ourselves.” 

Schuldig glanced up, knocked out of his own reverie. Abyssinian's mind had been...peculiar to put it mildly. He would stake his life on the kitty having some sort of extraordinary power. 

"When you say Weiss, don't you mean Abyssinian and Balinese? I thought Siberian had a rather cushy number nowadays." 

Seeing the obvious signs of a rather intense vision in Brad's stance and demeanour, he shut up and prepared to listen. "Okay, vater, what's happening?" 

For a moment all Crawford did was stare at Schuldig. When he replied his voice came out in the usual calm, measured way it always did, but there was a bit of an edge underlying the quiet tone. “It’s not just Kudoh,” he informed the German, “Rosenkreuz is after Fujimiya too.” He removed his glasses and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a small hotel towel, his hands visibly shaking from the power of the visions that had torn through his mind. 

"I'm not really surprised," Schuldig said. "Having had some access to his mind, finally, I can say categorically that there is something powerful and unique lurking in there." He was unusually quiet and serious for a moment. No matter what their history with Schwarz, he wouldn't want to be in either of the Weiss assassins shoes right now. "So...both sides want them, either dead or alive." 

He shot a worried glance at Crawford. The precog was pushing himself way too hard. "You need to rest, vater." 

Crawford put his glasses back on and ignored Schuldig’s last comment. “We aren’t going to be able to wait,” he informed the telepath. “Kudoh’s power is surfacing and he’s triggering Fujimiya.” He leaned back in the seat feeling drained and exhausted, but there just wasn’t enough time for rest. 

“That bitch from Rosenkruez is going to have at Kudoh tonight. He’s on mission and won’t back down so the whole thing is about to go down sooner than I wanted.” Dark eyes stared at Schuldig, “And Singapura will receive his orders to carry out Endgame. He’s to take Kudoh and Fujimiya out as soon as they’ve reported a successful mission back to Persia.” 

"Damn! The little shit doesn't waste any time does he? Should I let Siberian know the truth or should Nagi deal with that?" 

“He was trained to be a dog for the Takatori, so we shouldn’t hold it against him,” Crawford reminded the German. “Tell Nagi to handle it. Now. We need Siberian with us by the end of the week.” 

He shot another worried glance at Crawford. "Farf and I can deal with things tonight if you want. She's not a talent. Easy enough to dispose of her." 

Crawford shook his head, “She isn’t, but there are three others there who are. I just spotted them tonight.” He frowned, “And that bothers me for reasons that should be obvious.” He glanced at his watch, and got to his feet, almost losing his balance, grabbing the chair to steady himself. He frowned knowing what bad form it was to even let his own team see him at less than 100%. Weaknesses could be exploited and, except for Naoe, they were all products of Rosenkreuz. 

“It will have to be the three of us,” he told the telepath. “I don’t want you hurt by Kudoh.” He met the German’s eyes, “That bitch is going to drug him, but it’s not going to have the effect she expects.” He smirked. “Things are about to get a whole lot easier for all of us, Schuldig.” 

"Not if you fall apart, they're not," the German muttered under his breath. "Give me a moment to reach Nagi." 

*Hey, kid!* 

*What do you want, Schu?* Nagi's mind voice sounded worn, sad even. 

*Time to activate Siberian and get yourselves out of there.* 

Nagi's mind brightened considerably at that news but his next thought shocked Schuldig. *I don't think that's a good idea, kid. I'll run it past Brad if you like but...* 

*Will you stay out of my private thoughts! I'm not as stupid as you are!* The connection was abruptly severed. 

"Little bastard!" Schuldig complained, rubbing at his aching temples. 

One dark eyebrow arched in inquiry a slight frown crossing the man’s face at the obvious pain the German seemed to be in. “Did he hurt you? And I’ve already told him no about that other thing.” 

"Ach, he was pissed at me. My fault. He shocked me into prying too much. Should I go and wake Farf?" 

Time to get Schuldig out of here, Brad told himself and nodded, “Yes. We need to get going. We won’t be coming back here, so grab what the pair of you need. I’ve already packed.” 

Crawford waited until Schuldig was out of the room and dropped back into the chair feeling the pain lance down his arm as his heart protested the strain. He pressed a hand to his forehead, fighting a few lingering images that would not subside. 

Kudoh and Fujimiya wrapped in one another’s embrace. Lovers. Bitter anger rose in his heart and he shoved it aside. He’d known there’d never been a chance of what he wanted. His sole purpose was to keep his people alive, and to ensure that he had to have Kudoh and Fujimiya. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, rubbing his left arm as the pain slowly subsided. 

* * * * * * * 

Nagi felt a little guilty about thrusting Schuldig out of his head so quickly, but he'd been told his wish was impossible already and didn't want to upset Brad. Now his patience was paying off and Hidaka could be brought into the game, which also meant he would be free of Kritiker and its new boss. 

He packed quickly and left for the new flower shop in Sendai where Ken was situated. He wondered if the jock would believe him as his history suggested he'd once been very fond of Bombay. Time to find out. 

Ken was standing outside the back door of the shop, back to the wall, eyes turned heavenward. 

It just wasn’t the same and he couldn’t shake the hollow ache in the middle of his chest where his team mates had once filled the emptiness. 

Yohji and Aya gone. It didn’t make sense. Of them all he’d have expected at least one of them to have made it out of the sea. Aya and his stubborn resolve to care for his sister, or Yohji who’d always been part of the Weiss Ken had known. 

He kept expecting to hear Aya telling the girls to buy something or leave. Kept waiting to hear Yohji’s drawled comment on being glad to take care of any girls over eighteen. 

Over three months but he couldn’t get over the loss. Not even having the new team helped. Singapura and Bengal, both of them younger than he was. And being around Singapura hurt because the boy’s quiet polite ways were too damned much like Aya. 

Nagi watched Siberian silently for a moment or two, wondering how he should make his approach without the athletic young man trying to attack him. Then again, Hidaka was quite aware of who he'd been working for since the Ani incident. 

Done staring, he stepped round the corner and into view. "Hello, Siberian. I've got some news for you." 

He felt a pang of conscience as he realised that Ken's dark brown eyes were full of pain as they came to rest upon him. Was his news going to make that pain even worse? 

“So spill and leave, Prodigy. It’s late and I’m going to bed.” Of course it was a lie. He was probably going to go out and have a few beers and remember the times Yohji had dragged him out to do just that. 

_Yohji’d be the first one to tease me about being maudlin about them being dead too, if he was around to do it._

Nagi sighed at the tone but he was here to do something and Hidaka's mood was not going to stop him. He reached into the pocket of his hooded sweat jacket and pulled out a wad of photos. 

"Okay, Siberian, pin your ears back and listen. You've been lied to for the past three months. Both Abyssinian and Balinese are alive and at least one of your new team knew it. Here's the proof." 

He sorted through the photos, pulled out one of Yohji drinking in his car and floated it over to Ken. 

Ken snatched the photo out of the air and stared at it. He didn’t know where Seven was parked, but it certainly was his dead team mate’s car, and that certainly was Yohji in it. 

“Bullshit! Cut the crap, Prodigy. This could have been taken months ago,” he snarled as he ripped the picture in half and tossed it into the alley. “Go play mind games with your old friends and leave me the fuck alone!” 

He turned to open the back door of the shop so he could go inside and end the sick game the little prick was trying to play with him. “I was at the funeral for them both, remember?” 

"Funerals can be arranged without bodies," Nagi remarked calmly. "Try this one then." 

This time the shot was of Aya in the kitchen of a safe house that Ken recognised. The unusual part was that he was cleaning up cuts on a drunken Yohji and it was Singapura that was helping him. 

He floated a third across, this time with Bengal and Birman included in the scene. 

"Still convinced they're dead, Siberian? They're very much alive but in serious trouble." He retrieved the photos before Ken could tear them to shreds too and turned as if to leave. "Of course, if you prefer to abandon them like your boss has..." 

Ken spun around and grabbed Nagi, “Where the fuck did you get those pictures? And what do you mean about Omi abandoning them? What the fuck is going on!” 

He was shaking in fury, angry, hurt, confused. He wanted to smash something to pieces. He wanted to kill someone if this was a lie. He wanted to cry. 

Worst of all the things he wanted, he wanted it to be true so he could have his only friends back. 

Nagi removed Ken from his person by the simple expedient of tossing him into the air and holding him there. 

"Calm down, Siberian, and I'll tell you everything I know," he said. "The pictures were taken a week ago by Crawford and Schuldig. I know you don't trust them before you bother to say it, but hear me out. They have been sent on a mission to Hokkaido and, once it's completed, they're....expendable. If you have a computer I can show you the files." 

He tilted his head to one side as he gazed up at Ken. "If I let you down now, will you play nice?" 

Fury blazed in Ken’s eyes. “If you’re telling me the truth I’m going to take that little Takatori bastard apart with my bare hands. If you’re lying, you’d better run, because I swear to God I will find a way kill you and the rest of those Schwarz bastards!” 

"Will you believe the files?" Nagi asked, totally unphased by Ken's show of temper. 

“Let’s see them, and I’ll let you know,” Ken snapped. “Now put me the fuck down!” 

"Okay," Nagi said and let Ken down in a controlled fall contrary to his desire to drop the jock on his ass. "So, where's the computer?" 

Ken shoved the back door open, “Office. Zeshin’s the only one that knows how to access the Kritiker Network on the damned thing though. He was supposed to show me and didn’t.” And that brought another burst of anger that only turned up the heat on Ken’s already bonfire hot fury. 

He stalked down the hallway and shoved the office door open to show the computer to Nagi. “I guess you won’t have any problems accessing the Kritnet though, will you?” he asked bitterly, knowing that the Takatori would have given Naoe an access code and the ex-Schwarz hacker could have easily found out anything he wanted from that point. 

Nagi gazed coolly at Ken for a moment, wondering if the athlete realised that he'd never had to kill for Schwarz, before seating himself in front of the computer. His hands touched nothing but the computer was booted up and the keyboard was busily typing in data. 

"There," he said as the screen came to rest on a file marked top secret. 

Ken frowned. The name of the file was ‘Endgame.’ He reached for the mouse and clicked the file open, brown eyes wide and staring as he looked at a picture of Aya and Yohji. He knew the picture. It had been taken by Omi at the Koneko almost six months ago. He frowned and opened what appeared to be a group of emails. 

The first simply said, ‘Mission start. Report to the designated safe house, you are covered with Weiss Four. ~ Persia’ 

Next was, ‘Mission begun. I have arrived. ~Z’ 

‘Rosenkreuz in Hokkaido mission, exercise due care. Birman reported resistance from Balinese. Handle this if it becomes detrimental to the mission. ~Persia’ 

‘Abyssinian is dealing with Balinese. Hokkaido on track for results. Balinese suffering DTs. Advise. ~Z’ 

‘DTs inconsequential unless mission is jeopardized. If problem arises, enact Endgame on Balinese, place blame on Rosenkreuz agent. ~Persia’ 

‘Mission is moving forward, Rosenkreuz agents identified. ~Z’ 

‘Conclude Hokkaido. Enact Endgame on conclusion of Hokkaido whether mission is success or not. Balinese and Abyssinian pose risk. ~Persia’ 

‘Hokkaido to be successfully concluded in 24. Endgame necessary? ~Z’ 

‘Endgame absolute. Carry out Endgame mission. That is an order. ~Persia.’ 

‘Understood. Endgame at conclusion of Hokkaido. Hokkaido delayed by 24. Balinese and Abyssinian in town to deal with Balinese DT issue. Will return in 24 for conclusion of Hokkaido. ~Z’ 

‘Confirmed, Hokkaido in 48. Endgame to follow. No more delays. ~Persia.’ 

‘Understood. Hokkaido 48. Reconfirm Endgame.~Z’ 

‘Endgame imperative. You will carry out Endgame mission! ~Persia’ 

‘Endgame imperative. Respond. ~Persia.’ 

‘Understood. ~Z’ 

Ken closed his eyes and sat down on the floor abruptly as his world shattered. 

His voice was a broken whisper as he said, “Omi what have you become? They are our friends. Yohji saved your life at the Ani, Aya saved us all from SD and this is how you repay that?” Tears filled his eyes. “You even lied to me and... I loved you... how could you do this to your own family?” 

Nagi sighed softly. "Weiss isn't his family anymore. Takatori is. That's the difference. I was never the competition, Hidaka. I hate him even more than you do." 

“Give me the pictures, Naoe,” Ken said, his voice oddly quiet as he pulled the printed emails from the printer tray. “I”m not worried about Balinese or Abyssinian. Persia can order Zen to kill them, but he can’t give him the skill to do it.” 

"He very obviously doesn't want to do it," Nagi said as he handed over the photos. "Mamoru has got very adept at getting people to kill for him." He stared straight at Ken, his dark eyes expressionless. "The only reason he's alive is because I had to save Farf. Same goes for you actually, though I've never wished you harm. I'll take you to the Kritiker building if you wish." 

_And I'd better be doing the right thing or Brad is going to be furious with me._

Ken shoved the papers and pictures into his jacket, grabbed his motorcycle helmet and the gym bag with his mission gear left, not even bothering to lock up or get any of his few possessions. 

Nothing here held any meaning anymore. The only meaning left was behind a pair of blue eyes in the face of a liar. 

Nagi contacted Schuldig. *Mission accomplished. Hidaka heading towards Takatori. I'm going with him.* Then he followed Ken out of the house, feeling guilty about what he'd done to the athlete. 

By the time Nagi got outside Ken was on his bike and racing off into the night. The gym bag that had contained his bugnucks lay empty on the ground as did a single picture. One with the four of them in the shop with Omi hanging onto Ken’s ear, Yohji smiling, and Aya looking a bit shocked in the background. 

An errant gust of wind caught the picture and blew it high into the air. 

* * * * * * * 

Takatori Mamoru sighed slightly as he packed his briefcase and switched off his computer. It had been a long, difficult and tiring day. He hated what he had to do but neither Aya nor Yohji could be allowed to develop their powers. They would be far too dangerous if they did. 

He had just reached for his coat when there was a commotion in the outer office. He frowned as the door burst open and Ken charged in. 

"Siberian, what the hell do you think you're doing?" 

Ken had the bugnuk on, down by his side. He tossed the papers and photos onto Persia’s desk. “Want to explain this?” he asked quietly. 

"Where did you get these?" 

“Does it matter? Now start explaining... Mamoru,” he spit the name out like it had left a foul taste in his mouth. Truthfully the knowledge he’d carried over his broken heart had left a foul taste in his mouth and a soul deep wound in his psyche that might never heal. 

He’d gotten over Kase, but this.... 

"Naoe, it was him wasn't it? Don't you recognise Schwarz handiwork when you see it, Ken-kun?" 

It wouldn't be a good idea to let Ken know the truth. 

He pulled one picture out of the stack and shoved it under the younger man’s nose, “Explain that one.” It was the picture of Aya and Zeshin in front of the safehouse. “Better yet explain the emails to me. Or how about the fact that Zeshin, the kid you’ve had me working with is carrying out a solo mission to kill our old team mates? I seem to clearly recall him asking a lot of questions about how the two of them fought too. I also seem to remember going to a funeral for empty coffins.” 

He leaned closer to the other man, his words a razor-edged whisper, “You know what else I remember? I remember you didn’t shed one fucking tear.” 

"Why would I when I know they're alive?" Mamoru said, abandoning pretence and sitting down rather hurriedly. "Ken-kun, there are things you don't understand. Both Aya-kun and Yohji-kun are freaks. Just like Schwarz are. I cannot afford to have them turn on Kritiker. Besides, they're both worn down with the stress. Yohji-kun is virtually an alcoholic and Aya-kun is suicidal. How can I trust either of them anymore?" 

Ken’s dark eyes lost the tiny spark of light left in them as he replied, “What makes you think you can trust me, Mamoru?” 

The blue eyes, once so bright, had a steely glint in them as Mamoru replied, "I can't, Ken-kun. I can't trust anyone anymore." 

“Yeah. Sad world, isn’t it?” Ken’s mouth tightened. “I thought I’d learned. I thought I knew the score.” He laughed, the sound bitter, “I’m still a fool because I haven’t even learned to play the game.” 

He sighed, gave the younger man a sad, tired smile, “That’s me, Ken-kun ever dependable and slow on the uptake.” 

Chocolate brown eyes closed, Ken took a slow breath, “I’m sorry Omi. I really am.” 

Blood splattered across the wall and Ken turned away, unbuckling the straps that held the bugnuk to his hand. It fell with a thump to the floor, blood dripping from the blades.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written with zheyrrhyn.
> 
> I realize the POV changes in this are fast and furious but we actually wrote this in RP style as it was our first ever joint effort. We got a lot better with practice ^_^ so please persevere.

Kai was concerned. Since they'd been in the camp, Zeshin had hardly even spoken to him and he'd believed that the mission called for communication between them. He could only hope that tonight's meeting with Aya would make the quiet boy more forthcoming. Yohji was another worry. The blonde obviously had a serious drink problem. He was beginning to doubt if they could pull this mission off at all. 

Zeshin himself was more worried about the last text message he’d gotten from Persia. 

He sat under a tree, shoulders slumped trying to find the focus he would need to carry out the hardest task of his young life... Endgame. His mission to kill the pair of older Weiss. 

It had to be done. It was a direct order from Persia. 

He remembered Mamoru explaining it to him the last time they’d talked. 

_“Kudoh is coming apart. He can’t handle the strain anymore, and Fujimiya is suicidal. They are a danger to Kritiker. They know too much so I can’t just let them walk away.”_

“But what about them doing work like Manx or becoming field agents. We need them still, you said so yourself.” 

Mamoru had rolled over and looked him right in the eyes, the older boy’s gaze cold as a winter sky. “We’ve discussed this.” 

Zeshin had nodded, letting it drop. He’d felt Mamoru’s hand caress his cheek, “They’d understand why it had to be done,” he murmured, his fingers slipping through Zeshin’s silken hair. “And you know how I feel about them.” 

“Hai.” 

And Zeshin had known. Mamoru hadn’t felt a damned thing because Omi had been their friend, not the Takatori. As far as Mamoru was concerned, Omi had died at the Ani, his old persona cast off the way a snake shed its skin. 

The clock ticked slowly forward to nine and Kai made his way to the room Aya used for tutorials. 

He was impressed with Aya. The man was totally focused on the mission and never deviated from his cover. He hoped he could be as good, even though he had been cornered into joining Kritiker. When they'd put him in Weiss he'd actually felt better about things. Weiss was legendary in the organisation and he'd felt honoured to be chosen as part of it. 

The initial coolness of both Aya and Yohji had been expected and he was hoping, if he could prove himself, that they would eventually thaw a bit towards him. 

He knocked at the door and Aya's deep voice bade him enter. 

Aya was sitting on a corner of his desk, one long leg swinging. He glanced up as the younger members of Weiss entered but there was no welcoming smile. Instead his eyes fixed on Singapura and he frowned slightly. Something about the boy was just...wrong. Still they had work to do. 

"Anything to report?" he asked them. 

Zeshin nodded and handed Aya his sketchbook. "I've drawn a few pictures for you, Fujimiya-sensei." 

Aya flipped through the sketches before passing the book over to Yohji. Then his attention focused on Kai. 

"There are several kids here who are...different in some way. They keep themselves to themselves and it's hard to get into their group. Singapura might have more luck with that than I have." He didn't actually say that Singapura was different but it could be implied if Aya wished. 

Yohji raised an eyebrow at the sketches but said nothing. The boy was a talented artist and it made the blond wonder what other secret abilities the boy was hiding from them. 

Zeshin glanced at Kai from the corner of his eye but kept quiet. The children weren't targets, except for Goemon who he knew was there to draw out the other children and gain their acceptance. Two things the young Rosenkreuz agent was failing miserably at. 

"These four are the targets of the mission," he stated softly. Voice like a whisper of silk. "If you can handle Goemon, then I'm sure I can handle one of the women." He glanced at Yohji, "Your target should be Ise-sensei, the soccer coach. Be careful, I believe he is a telepath." 

Aya's eyes flickered and he turned a glare on Zeshin. "I will decide if, when and how we take them out," he said icily, "not you. Miya and Goemon we know about. What about the other two? What makes you so certain they are our targets?" 

Zeshin stepped back from Aya and bowed, "Gomen nasai," he murmured. "But I have orders from Persia that this mission must be concluded by tomorrow. There is..." he paused, frowning, "another mission." 

Aya exchanged a glance with Yohji before sliding off the desk and stalking over to Singapura and poking him in the chest. "You're not listening to me. I am in charge in the field, not you and not fucking Persia. Do you understand?" 

Yohji was watching the boy, seeing the fear in his eyes. His own jade eyes narrowed. There was something going on here. Something far more than was apparent on the surface, but damned if he could figure out what the hell it was. 

"You didn't answer why you think it's the four of them, Zeshin," Yohji said. "Want to clue us in why them?" 

"Because Ise told me they are with a very special group of people who will treat me much better than my own family. He sent me to speak to Miya and told me I should run away from home and join this group where I will be appreciated… She even promised me money and a plane ticket," he replied, not bothering to look up. 

Kai picked up on something else. "What new mission?" he demanded. "And why hasn't Persia told any of the rest of us about it?" 

"Because Persia chose me as mission leader," Zeshin replied very quietly. "Birman didn't say anything, but I was supposed to, and I didn't. I'm taking Bombay's old job." 

"Bombay was never mission leader," Aya said, flatly. "He was our strategist and now he's dead. Persia can believe what he likes, but none of us is taking our orders from you." There was something in Singapura's manner that was both off and very different from the boy who had arrived at the safe house. Suddenly, the tip of Aya's katana was at his new team mate's throat, the sword having been retrieved from inside the folds of his long duster coat. "Now, suppose you tell us all exactly what this new mission is..." 

Something changed in the boy's expression, his eyes meeting Aya's in a bland stare as cool as any of the two older men were able to muster. "After this is done we're supposed to head for Tokyo to pick up a new mission brief from Manx," he replied in a voice of perfect calm. "It seems that we're to hunt down and eliminate Schwarz." 

"Bullshit," Aya said succinctly. "Schwarz would eat you up and spit you out. We've survived them enough times to know that." His eyes narrowed. "I will not work with anyone that I cannot trust. Right now that means you." 

"Well you don't have much choice. We've got a mission which all three of you accepted." Zeshin was staring Aya in the eyes, half hoping the man wouldn't discover what his real mission was, almost praying that he would and just kill him. 

He didn't want to kill either Balinese or Abyssinian. But that was the order he'd been given by Persia. A mission that the two older Weiss were not supposed to survive. 

Just as he was sure Weiss four wasn't meant to survive their mission against Schwarz. 

Kai glanced at Yohji, wondering what he was making of all this. For himself, he would follow the lead of the two surviving members of Weiss. 

Aya was still glaring at Singapura. "We will finish this mission as and when I say and not before. We will look into these four and, if they really are our targets, I will decide how best to proceed. If you deviate from that in any way, I will kill you no matter what Persia thinks." 

The boy just nodded slightly to show his understanding. Regardless of whether Abyssinian and Balinese finished the mission here, they had to die in 48 hours or he knew his own life-- whatever there might be left of it-- would be over. Takatori Mamoru did not tolerate failure from his dogs and Singapura had no illusions that he was anything but the Takatori's dog. 

Aya resheathed the katana. "Balinese is meeting with Miya in about half an hour and will give me his impressions when he returns. Bengal, I want you to keep an eye on Goeman. I'll investigate the other man and woman. Singapura, you'll do your best to infiltrate the talented group. Your own abilities should help you to do that." 

Singapura said nothing, only bowing his head in acknowledgement of the order before he retreated from the room on soundless feet. 

Yohji watched the boy go, a frown marring his handsome face. 

"That was just weird," Kai remarked. "I'd better get back to my dorm. Here's the assignment, Fujimiya-sensai." He handed over a neat folder and turned to leave. 

When he had gone, Aya turned to Yohji and sighed. "You're the only one I can trust now," he said. 

Yohji was still staring out into the darkness beyond the door. "Aya, have you noticed how different he's acting? Almost..." his golden brows drew downward as his frown deepened. He shook his head, "I can't figure it out, but he's upset about something and I'd bet you it has something to do with Persia's orders. I think he's put the kid into the unenviable position of telling you what to do when they know damned well you don't take orders from anyone." 

The jade eyes narrowed, "You know, even Birman was hostile to us. Not that she's ever been anything but a hard ass, but..." he shook his head. "There's something going on we don't know about, and I think it's scaring the shit out of that kid." 

Aya nodded his agreement before taking Yohji in a fierce embrace. "You watch yourself round Miya," he said. "She's trouble." Another thought struck him. "How did Singapura know exactly who the targets were? You can't tell me that was just instinct. This whole mission is beginning to smell like a set-up." 

Yohji shook his head, "I pointed Ise out to you earlier. He's the soccer coach. And I also told you about Goemon the kid and my suspicions about Miya," the he reminded Aya. "I told Singapura to watch Goemon and Ise since he can sit and observe and no one will be suspicious because of his cover. Miya reminds me of Schwarz, very creepy. Which is probably why she was easy for me to spot." 

Yohji handed Aya the sketchbook that Zeshin had left with them earlier. The picture was far to the back, lightly pencilled but it was clearly one of a sleeping Takatori Mamoru, except asleep he still looked like Omi. 

"Kami-sama! They're lovers! Yohji, I don't like this. What the hell is the little shit up to?" 

"I think it's a little more complicated than that," the blond replied. Yohji flipped back a few more pages and showed Aya a second drawing, this one of the boy himself on his knees wearing nothing but a dog's collar with a tag that said, 'If found return to Takatori Mamoru.' 

Aya was suddenly back on a rooftop, wrapped in Yohji's wire with Birman pointing a gun at his head. "Are you my dog?" she'd asked. He came back to a sense of his surroundings and took a deep breath. "Never trust a Takatori," he said almost to himself, "but stupidly I did. What a fool I was!" 

"We're both fools. We believed that Omi was dead, and in a way," he looked at the sketchbook, "I guess he is." 

The blond looked up at his lover, "I'd be willing to bet Persia has given Singapura a mission here too. One that's got him scared enough to lie. I don't think Persia pitted him against you, I think he's trying to throw the mission so we back off. The question is, why?" 

"And why did Crawford of all people see fit to warn us?" Aya mused. "Just before Birman arrived at that. Yohji, I'm going to give you half an hour with Miya. If you're not back here by 10.30, I'm coming after you. If anything happened to you..." His voice trailed off. If anything happened to Yohji now, he would follow him into death. There was nothing else he could do. 

The blond didn't miss the implication. Setting the sketchbook aside he grabbed Aya's upper arms and looked him in the eyes, "If anything happens to me you'll get your ass out of here and take those two kids with you! Do you understand me Aya?" 

"I'll get them out, Yohji," was all Aya would agree to. "But I have no intention of leaving here without you." Whichever way that was. 

Yohji frowned. "We fucked once, Aya. Don't get all emotional on me because of it. You've got to have your mind focused on the mission right now. That's why I never told you how I felt. It's too dangerous for us to think with our hearts and not our minds. But we can't risk it, Aya. And of all people you are the last one I thought I'd have to say this to, you really are." 

"Half an hour, Kudoh, no more or I'll gut the bitch." Aya was in no mood to listen to sense right now, not when Yohji was at stake. Lovers or not, Yohji was all he had left. 

The blond gave him a smile, "Baby you're beautiful when you're pissed." He didn't give Aya a chance to protest, he just hauled him into a tight embrace and kissed him hard, tongue barging in and taking possession of the younger assassin's mouth. 

Aya clung to Yohji for a few endless moments, allowing him to plunder his mouth as he wished. Then he extricated himself with a sigh. “It’s nearly ten. You need to go.” 

Yohji kissed the man gently then backed away, "Promise me, you won’t do anything stupid." 

“I won’t jeopardise the mission. Now go.” 

"It's not the mission I'm worried about. It's you, Aya." Yohji caressed the pale cheek, eyes gone darker, sadness in their depths. "You didn't promise." He turned away abruptly, walking away while he still could. "I'll be back in a half an hour." 

The door banged closed behind him leaving Aya alone with his thoughts. 

* * * * * * * 

Singapura was stretched out along the branch of a tree, luminous amber eyes focused on the cabin where Aya and Yohji were still talking. He'd watched the pair of men kiss and frowned. Mamoru didn't mention that, I wonder if he even knows. He saw how gentle they were with one another, could almost feel the emotions flowing between them. It wasn't just sex, it was plain to him the men were lovers with an emphasis on the love. 

Bitterly he understood the need to eliminate the two men from Persia's point of view. Their problems were becoming insurmountable. Yohji's drinking. Aya's depression. As lovers they would put the team in even greater jeopardy because their mission focus would be gone. 

They couldn't retire to live the rest of their lives away from Kritiker. There was too much chance Rosenkruez would locate them and use their knowledge of Kritiker against the organization. 

No, there was only one solution left. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and steeled himself to do his duty. Endgame for Weiss. 

When he opened his eyes they were barren of emotion. From his vantage point he could also see Miya as she let Ise into her cabin, the man handing her a bottle of wine and a pair of plastic cups like they used for meals in the hall. 

"So we're all ready to move?" she asked. 

"Yes. We've got the car ready and we can have him on a plane in two hours." 

"Perfect. It's too bad he's so old. If he were younger he might be trainable." 

"It really doesn't make much difference. Once he's broken he'll be just as pliable as the students are, and his talent will still function." 

That's where you're wrong, the boy thought. None of that will happen because all of you will be dead, including Balinese. 

The door of Aya's classroom banged closed and he saw Yohji heading toward Miya's cabin. Ise hadn't exited so that had to mean he was hiding in there to help take Kudoh. 

He jumped down from the tree with only the slightest whisper of sound. 

It was time for Zeshin to become Singapura the killer. 

It was time for the Rosenkruez agents and Weiss to die. 

There was just something off about Singapura, but damned if he could name exactly what didn't feel right about the boy other than the fact that Yohji was sure the boy was being evasive about something. 

And what the hell was this new mission they were to undertake? They weren't even done with this business with the Rosenkruez agents and already Persia was pushing them to get it over with so they could move on to another one? That also didn't make much sense. Then again, not much did lately. Like finding out that Omi was now calling himself Takatori Mamoru and acting as Persia. 

He didn't like it, and he didn't have to be a genius to realize Aya probably distrusted the whole thing just because of the fact it was a Takatori giving them the orders yet again. Everything that had been bad in Aya's life was directly connected to that family. Everything. 

And there was something very wrong going on with Singapura. 

But that was something that would have to wait. He had a date with Miya to deal with first. His stomach rolled at the thought of being alone with the woman. She really did give him the creeps. 

Yohji knocked at the door of the woman’s cabin and waited. 

"He's here," Ise hissed. "You know your role. I'll be in the bathroom." With that he disappeared into the bathroom and silently shut the door. 

Miya opened the door dressed in nothing but a very short gauzy dressing gown. He could clearly see her dark nipples and the ‘V’ of her pubic hair through the suggestion of a garment and he understood she was going to try and seduce him. 

_Not a chance, bitch. Not a chance in hell._

Miya smiled at Yohji and the man forced an answering smile. “There you are!” she said as she crossed the small room that was part of the small cabin apartment that was hers at the campground. 

There were light snacks set out on the coffee table between a pair of chairs, and a small bottle of plum wine was chilling in a pail of ice. She took the blonde’s hands intending to lead him inside but Yohji didn’t budge. 

Her smile fell, becoming a frown. “Is something wrong?” 

He had to fight the urge to back out of the room, to run for the comfort of Aya’s arms. Stupid. Aya wouldn’t protect him. If anything Aya would be pissed at him for acting like an idiot. He didn’t need to be protected anyway. She was part of the mission and he had to find out what Kritiker needed to know and the only way to handle that was to talk to this spider in human form. 

But... the woman really was creeping him out in a big way. 

“No I’ve just,” he forced the smile again, “got a bit of a headache,” he lied. 

She nodded, and motioned to the chairs “Come in, have a seat and relax, please. You’ve probably been working too hard,” she added as Yohji took the chair closest to the door. 

“Too much sun maybe,” he remarked, as he watched her pouring some of the plum wine. 

“Maybe this will help you,” she offered as she held the plastic cup out. “I’m sorry I don’t have a wine glass to offer you.” She giggled, the sound as false as her smile. “I know it’s against the rules to have this here, but I won’t tell if you won’t.” 

Yohji took the cup, his hand shaking slightly. Gods he wanted it. Wanted to gulp it down and fill it again. Beads of sweat broke out on his upper lip and at his hairline as he fought the old demon of addiction. He’d promised Aya, but he wanted it so bad. 

She smiled over the rim her own glass, “Go on, I won’t tell.” 

He swallowed, looked into the cup. “I shouldn’t.” 

“Trying to quit then?” she asked. 

“I ahhh...” He put the cup down staring at it as if the thing contained a viper. 

She put her own cup down and got to her feet, moving to stand behind Yohji. 

The blonde tensed, ready to be attacked. 

“It’s okay. I want to help,” she murmured as she leaned down, her breath warm on his cheek. 

He could smell the wine on her breath, sweet, inviting. Warm hands touched his shoulders, massaging gently. 

“You’re very handsome, but I bet you know that don’t you?” she murmured into his ear. 

His heartbeat picked up another notch and Yohji closed his eyes against the urge to retreat. “Sure I do,” he agreed. “I’ve heard it from enough women.” 

“Men too I bet,” she added as she touched her tongue to the blonde’s ear. 

Yohji shivered but it was from loathing not desire. “I think I should be going. I signed a form saying that there weren’t to be any affairs between staff members.” 

She laughed softly in his ear, “Should that matter?” Her fingers caressed down the side of his neck, fingernails brushing along his skin lightly. 

“I think it does,” Yohji replied. He picked up the glass of wine needing something to do with his hands before he slipped and choked the life out of the woman. His reaction startled him and he lifted the glass to his lips, took a swallow and shuddered as he felt the alcohol on his tongue. 

He stared at the plastic cup, part of his brain screaming at him for drinking anything the woman gave him. But it was as if a thick blanket descended over that part of his mind. What did it matter if he had a little wine? 

“Good isn’t it?” she purred. “So sweet, like honey.” 

Yohji nodded and took another swallow, then another. He set the empty cup down. 

“It’s what you needed isn’t it?” She murmured, her breath warm and enticing on his ear. 

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly as he turned in the seat and reached for the woman, pulling her into his lap and kissing her gently. “I need you too.” 

But there was a little voice at the back of his mind screaming for him to snap out of it, that something was wrong, that he needed to get out of there. 

He ignored it and kissed the smirking woman with a bit more interest. 

She rolled off his lap and walked away, laughing. “So easy. So very easy.” 

He blinked, watched as the wine bottle wavered in his vision before he slumped to the floor. 

Ise smiled in satisfaction. The bitch was good but Kudoh had that icy redhead Fujimiya on his mind. Still a little unobtrusive suggestion had done the trick and he’d drunk the wine then mellowed enough to kiss the slut. He pushed open the door and crossed the room with a telepath’s speed. 

“Nice work. Let’s get him into the van before his lover comes looking for him.” 

Miya, known among Rosenkreuz as the Black Widow simply nodded and grabbed one of the blonde's arms. 

"My pheromones didn't seem to affect him, which is odd because they've never failed before. I was so certain he would fall under my spell without resorting to drugs." She frowned. "I wonder what makes him immune? Not that it matters." 

She shrugged pragmatically, "The nail polish did the trick just as they said it would. Was it hard for you to get into his mind?" 

They started to drag the barely conscious Balinese toward the back door of her cabin, and she shoved the door open as they quickly took the blonde toward the van parked in the trees. 

“Not really,” Ise said. “If you’re wondering about your er…charms, he’s in love with another man. That’s why he was resistant to you until I got him to drink the wine.” 

The woman reached for the door of the van, "Love. What a fool." 

She saw motion from the corner of her eye and looked up to see someone in the tree above them. "What the hell?" 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford snarled out another string of curses that nearly singed the leather seats of the luxury car he was driving. The car roared around a curve in the road, tires squealing, the back fishtailing slightly. Crawford was taking risks, looking ahead at what was about to happen with Weiss, then switching back to check his own driving. He was getting a headache, but he was too mad to care. 

"Fuck! The Widow and Mindwarp are going to get Kudoh. Dammit! Schuldig tell me you did give them my warning!" 

The car skittered around another curve and Farfarello glanced out the rear window, calmly noting that they'd missed the guardrail by little more than an inch. 

"See if you can reach Abyssinian. Scream if you have to. We'll deal with the backlash from the Rosenkreuz agents if they hear, but you've got to get that bitch moving or we'll lose Kudoh!" he snarled at the German beside him. "Siberian won't arrive in time to keep Singapura from hurting Kudoh and that's going to push our pretty red-haired killer over the edge." Brad pressed the accelerator pedal harder. They'd make it, but it was going to be a very close call for Singapura. Dangerously close. 

Schuldig nudged Aya’s shields. They were weaker than usual which surprised him. Then he realised why. Abyssinian’s mental energy was being used in worry for Kudoh as well it might be. 

*Never mind the soul-searching, Abyssinian. Balinese is being taken to Rosenkruez. Get your sorry ass over to the back of Miya’s cabin right now!* 

He was pleased to note that Abyssinian wasted no time in freeing his katana and heading for the woods behind the Black Widow’s cabin. 

“Abyssinian on his way, vater,” he told Brad. 

Crawford nodded, too busy looking ahead to reply. If he wasn't careful they'd go off the road to their deaths down the mountainside. If they didn't hurry Abyssinian would kill Singapura. 

"I'll get you some cookies for being so good," he muttered sarcastically after he got past the danger zone. 

Farfarello chuckled but quickly stifled the sound not wanting to distract the precog. *See, he does love you,* he told the German silently knowing Brad could only hear them if Schuldig allowed it. 

*Which is more than you or Nagi do!* Schuldig reacted before relenting a little in the face of the hurt look in the psychopath’s eye. *Well more than Nagi does. I wonder… * And Schuldig lost himself in gleeful speculation on the youngest Schwarz’s possible crush on Siberian. 

Farfarello pushed himself forward in his seat and grabbed a handful of Schuldig’s hair, leaning in close until his nose was almost touching the German's. *But I do love you, Schuldig,* he replied, his hand pulling the man's head back painfully. *If I didn't love you I would have painted the walls with your blood.* He turned his head slightly and touched his lips to the red-head's, the tip of his tongue sliding across the seam of Schuldig's mouth. 

From the corner of his eye Schuldig could see the gleam of a knife as it moved dangerously close to his face. *Such lovely blue eyes. When this is over I'm going to fuck you and watch those pretty eyes glaze with pleasure.* 

"Farfarello!" Brad's voice cracked like a whip, "Put it away." Whether he meant the knife or the sexual advance the Irishman didn't know, but he obeyed, sheathing the knife and sitting back. But his amber eye was smouldering with lust as he stared at the German. 

*You were thinking about Nagi and the brown kitten. What was that about?* 

Schuldig shuddered with ecstasy at both Farfarello’s thoughts and the lust he could see burning in his remaining, beautiful, golden eye. 

*I think Nagi is developing a crush on Siberian. He seemed very concerned about him when he delivered the photos and files. More than simple concern for our plans.* 

Farfarello licked his lips, teasing the German. A glimpse of angry honey brown eyes in the rear view mirror stopped his game. Brad was being a bastard all because his plans had gone awry. As if it was their fault. But there was no reasoning with the American. Not since the precog had realized any hope he had of fucking the red kitten had been dashed by the application of the gold kitten's highly skilled cock. 

*Siberian and Nagi? That's an odd thought, isn't it?* 

*Chalk and cheese,* Schuldig agreed, *and yet… you know I could see it working. Better than Nagi and the little shit ever would have. Almost as well Singapura got there first.* 

*The Takatori brat would have died before I let him touch Nagi. Better that the white kitten got there first or more of Crawford's plans would have been ruined.* Ignoring the warnings he'd already gotten he reached up and grabbed a handful of Schuldig's hair. *Not much longer and you'll get some peace. But the first time I catch the gold kitty fucking you, he dies.* 

*And Abyssinian would try to kill me,* Schuldig added. *I’m not that stupid, Farf. Besides why would I want him when I’ve got you?* 

A suspicious glance from Crawford’s eyes reminded him that he’d better monitor Abyssinian’s actions if he wanted to make it to old age. 

Aya was running into the woods and had almost caught up to the man and woman who were tugging at a limp and obviously unconscious Yohji. 

The pale haired boy landed on top of the van, and regarded the two Rosenkruez agents with cool amber eyes. No longer in the jeans and plain shirt he'd worn, the boy was in a wine red coat that reached just below his knees. Heavy boots covered him from there downward and his hair had been pulled back in a pony tail that shone like frost in the moonlight. 

"Who the hell do you think you are?" 

The boy's eyes caught the light like those of a cat, "A killer," he replied and whipped a long strand of glittering silver toward Ise. 

Aya had time to see the harigane slash out and registered some concern at another using the weapon he associated with Yohji but then his mission focus clicked back into place and he was ready as the frightened woman dropped Yohji and ran straight towards him. He stopped, took his stance and waited for her. 

A loop of glittering wire coiled around Ise's throat, the boy leaping back into the tree in a shimmer of moonlit hair, the wire tightening. 

Eyes bulging, choking, Mindwarp was hauled off his feet, kicking and choking. He tried to attack the boy, but hit a mental shield that felt more like steel than a human mind. 

Amber eyes met those of the Rosenkruez agent. Inhuman eyes. Too late Ise realized what and who the boy was. 

Singapura stepped off the tree branch and as he dropped Mindwarp was hauled up, his neck snapping. 

Seeing her partner being murdered and helpless to stop it, the Black Widow dropped Kudoh and ran for the safety of the deeper forest. She could get to Goemon and the boy could protect her from the other boy. 

"Shit, where is the other Weiss?" she glanced behind her. 

“Right here,” Aya said as the katana swung, taking her head neatly from her shoulders. He was just about to congratulate Singapura when he saw the tell-tale silver streak arc towards him. “What the…?” He brought the katana up and managed to tangle the wire, jerking Singapura slightly off balance. 

The boy let the wire go, and backed away from the older Weiss. Amber eyes narrowing, he reached behind him to grasp something. A short bar of metal with a wicked blade at one end appeared in his hand with the same almost magical skill Aya displayed with his katana. With a snap of his wrist the bar became a seven foot long naginata. 

Aya’s eyes narrowed. “What the fuck is going on?” he demanded. 

The only answer he got was Singapura charging forward silently, naginata high, the blade arcing down toward him. 

He brought the katana up swiftly to block the blow, sparks flying from both weapons. At this point he was still loathe to actually kill Singapura. 

The boy had no such qualms anymore. He understood the need for what he was doing. The naginata whipped around, the blunt end of the pole speeding for Abyssinian's head, as the boy whirled away from Abyssinian. 

Aya stepped back in time to avoid being hit and swung the katana again. “You think he’ll let you live after you kill us?” he asked, suddenly realising exactly what the ‘other mission’ actually was. “You’re one of the 'freaks' he hates so much.” 

Agile as a cat the boy danced out of Aya's reach, the naginata slanted behind him, amber gaze locked with violet. 

"He doesn't hate me," the boy replied softly. "He doesn't hate you, Abyssinian. You and Kudoh pose a threat to everything he is trying to build whereas I'm a dog whose leash he holds. I've no illusions that I am any more than that. A dog who is just an expendable resource." 

He smiled, the expression sad. "We're Weiss. That's all any of us ever were for Kritiker. Dogs trained to kill that must be put down when they become a threat to their master." 

Singapura rushed at Aya the boy moving faster than any natural human could manage. 

Aya sidestepped at the last moment and brought the flat of the blade down hard on the boy’s back, sending him staggering forward. He was still hoping that common sense would reassert itself in Singapura’s mind although that hope was diminishing fast. 

Zeshin staggered almost falling from the power behind the blow. He knew he should be dead, it could have easily been a fatal attack, but Abyssinian, foolishly, was trying to preserve his life. 

He spun, around, but this time it was the wire of the harigane that went for the older Weiss, shining loops spinning out. He'd leave his fight with Aya and go back to kill Yohji. The man was probably unconscious yet so he would mercifully never know how he'd died. 

Then he could resume the battle with Aya. Even if the other Weiss killed him, and he knew he would, without Kudoh he wouldn't live long. 

He would have completed Endgame successfully. 

But if he died before Kudoh, then he'd have failed Mamoru and he couldn't let his lover down. 

Aya felt the wire settle round him and trip him. With a curse of frustration at his own foolishness in not going for the killing blow when he’d had the chance, he fell to the ground and waited for the end to come. 

It didn’t and he opened his eyes to see Singapura heading towards Yohji. With a snarl he cut away the wires and staggered to his feet, now quite prepared to kill the boy. 

Reaching Yohji the boy crouched down and whipped a coil of wire around the man's neck. To his horror jade eyes opened, registered shock, sadness and then anger. 

The blonde struggled weakly, hating the fact that, for the second time in his life, someone was trying to kill him with his own weapon. He grabbed the wire, fighting for his own life as the boy tried to tighten it. 

"Please let me do this. Please don't make me fail him," Zeshin whispered as he tried to kill the blonde. 

"No," Yohji gasped out. He could see Aya coming on, his eyes cold and angry. 

Letting go of the wire Zeshin spun to meet Aya's attack with the naginata. 

Pulling the wire away Yohji sucked in a breath and reached out to grab the boy's foot, dumping Singapura to the ground. "Aya... he's yours," he croaked out. 

The boy hit the ground. He was on his hands and knees, trying to regain his feet when Aya arrived. Resigned amber eyes stared up at the older man. 

"Gomen nasai, Mamoru. I didn't mean to fail." 

Aya raised the blade to strike when a sharp needle prick entered his thigh and his world darkened. His last thoughts, before unconsciousness took him were the words of a poem. “Do not go gentle into that dark night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” And he did try to fight the lethargy for Yohji’s sake. It was no use, however, and he collapsed into unconsciousness. 

Schuldig stood over him with a gun in his hand pointed straight at Singapura. “Do I have to drug you too, or will you come quietly?” 

The only answer Schuldig got was the flash of harigane wire flung at him with far less skill than needed to capture the most dangerous telepath to ever grace the halls of Rosenkreuz's warped Academy. 

The gun spoke as Schuldig jumped back and a tranquiliser dart hit Singapura in the arm. Leaving the boy to fall, Schuldig went to check on Yohji. He was quite surprised to see the blonde actually conscious. “Well, well, we meet again, Balinese. Sorry we can’t let you kill Singapura but he’s almost as useful as you and Abyssinian are.” 

"Son.. of a... bitch," Yohji got out, still trying to regain control of his body. He felt numb, his limbs hardly responding to the commands from his brain. He managed to fumble the wire from his watch, but couldn't make his arm work to throw it. "Fuck..." 

"I see we arrived in time," Crawford announced as he joined Schuldig. "Farfarello is hunting down Harridan, I don't think she'll last long. Bengal is dealing with Goemon who foolishly thought he could come and help his bosses with a gun." 

He glanced down at Yohji, * He's stronger than I actually realized Schuldig. This is going to prove interesting.*


	7. Cleaning up a Loose End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Kai was still bothered by Zeshin’s odd behaviour at the meeting. The memory of it was keeping him awake which is why he saw Goemon sneak out of bed, dress and pick up a gun before leaving the dorm. Kai dressed swiftly and followed. 

Goemon arrived in time to see the older pair of Rosenkruez agents die at the hands of the pale haired boy and the red-haired Weiss. They'd known that Fujimiya and Kudoh were Weiss, but not that the supposedly sickly near albino was one of them too. 

Seeing Ise die at the hands of the kid proved that, gun or not, he stood no chance. He ran. Talented or not, he wasn't trained well enough to fight people like Weiss and he knew it. 

Running across the camp he headed for his motorcycle, the weight of the pistol in his hand the only reassurance he had that he might escape with his own life. 

He skidded to a stop. There was a man in the parking lot. One with short cut white hair and an patch over one eye. 

_Dear God... That's.... Berserker._

Goemon froze, his guts turning to water. Weiss and renegade Schwarz here at the same time? How was that possible? 

He backed away slowly, moving to the left and nearly tripped. Looking down he saw that he'd almost fallen over the body of the last member of their team. Harridan, the only one of them who'd been really good in a fight. 

She'd been gutted like the catch of the day, her sightless eyes staring up at him, mouth open in her final cry of agony. 

By the time Kai was dressed and out of the dorm it was in time to see Goemon racing across the camp as if he had all the demons of hell on his tail. This was a very different attitude to the one he’d shown when leaving the dorm. Breaking into a run himself, he chased the other boy to the parking lot. 

Farfarello hopped to the top of a car and crouched there, staring out into the trees. 

Goemon froze his heart in his throat. _If he's here then.... Schuldig might be here telling him where I am._

The boy's eyes filled with fright. Rosenkruez agent or not, he was terrified of Schwarz. A lot of them were. With good cause. The four men were dangerous. They were also renegades that Rosenkruez had yet to recapture. 

And any single one of them was quite capable of killing him with the ease of killing a fly. 

Berserker jumped from the top of the car and ran off into the forest heading away from the terrified boy. 

Goemon ran for his bike. He had to get it and get out before any of Weiss or Schwarz found him. 

Kai skidded to a halt as he saw Farfarello. The silver-haired man’s presence had immobilised Goemon and Kai crept forward, intent on finishing him. Then Farfarello was gone as if he’d never been there and Goemon was running for his bike. 

Kai had to rub his eyes at what he saw next. A slight figure stepped out of the shadow of the trees and made a crushing gesture with his hands. Goemon’s bike was rendered down into so much scrap metal. Prodigy! He glanced back to where the telekinetic had been standing but he was gone. 

So now he was left with Goemon and a gun. So be it. He pulled out his sai and stepped forward expecting a bullet at any second. 

Goemon stared at what remained of his motorcycle. He knew what had happened. Prodigy. 

He was trapped with no escape. He turned, seeing a slender form in the dark. "I'll kill you! Whoever you are!" He fired the gun, not even bothering to aim before he ran, heading through the thin line of trees for the area where the cabins were. If he could reach the far line of trees before they found him he'd have a chance. 

Kai moved to the right, taking a route that would cut his prey off before he reached the shelter of the forest. He was good enough to throw a sai but needed to be a lot closer before he could do that and Goemon was still running like a startled deer. 

Goemon ran for all he was worth, but even that hope of escape was dashed when a broad-shouldered brunet stepped out of the shadows. The man was blocking his escape in that direction. He knew who the man was from the pictures Rosenkruez had shown them. Weiss. Siberian. He fired off another couple of wild shots and spun around to retreat. 

Going back the way he'd come, terror filling him, he found he was yet again unable to go forward. Another boy was blocking his escape. He fired off another shot, and kept firing until the gun clicked empty. 

Kai didn’t know why two total strangers had come to his aid. Prodigy he knew of as he did all of Schwarz, but who had the other man been? He hadn’t seen his face and he wasn’t tall enough to be Aya or Yohji. But now was not the time to speculate. Especially as Goemon’s last bullet had whizzed past his left ear, missing him by scant inches. 

He jumped forward, sai spinning in a blur of ceaseless movement. Then he was on the other boy and made short work of cutting his throat. 

Standing up he gazed around. There was no sign of the other two and he had to get back and let Aya know that Goemon was down. 

But it wasn't Aya he found. Siberian stepped into the boy's view, "Hello Bengal,“ he said voice flat and devoid of emotion. 

“Siberian? What are you doing here?” Kai demanded. 

"Yes. I'm Siberian. Yes, I'm supposed to be dead. No, I'm not dead, I was told Abyssinian and Balinese were dead. We don't have time to chat. Come with me or stay here, but either way, I'm going." 

Ken turned to leave. He knew where he'd find his team mates. Safe with Schwarz, which was the most unbelievable joke he'd ever heard in his life. 

Other than the joke about a person named Takatori Mamoru being his friend. 

Siberian? What the hell was going on here? “Wait up,” he said. “Abyssinian and Balinese are at the camp under cover. Aren’t you wanting to see them? Isn’t that why you’re here?” 

"No, actually I came here to keep them from being killed," Ken replied shortly. 

“Then what are we doing out here? Yohji’s meeting with one of the targets right now!” 

Kai had a lot of respect for both Aya and Yohji and if they were in danger he would do whatever he could to help. He turned to head back to the camp only to have a powerful grip descend on his shoulder and stop him. 

"Don't bother. This mission is over," Siberian told him. "Now come on. We're leaving." Brown eyes met the boy's gaze, "With or without you." 

Kai gazed back at Siberian, trying to get some sort of read on him. The brown eyes were sad too as if he‘d suffered a recent loss. He nodded. 

“Okay, lead the way,” he said. 

Ken trotted off, triggering the comm. he’d worn since he'd refused any telepathic contact with the Schwarz telepath. "I've got Bengal. Where are you Prodigy?" 

“I’m right here, Siberian. We need to head for Sapporo.” Nagi stepped out of the shadow of the trees and gazed at Kai for a long, assessing moment. The fourth member of the pretend Weiss didn’t look stupid even though he’d been played for a sucker. 

“Hello, Bengal. We’ll reunite you with the rest of your team. Siberian can carry you. I’ll make my own way.” 

"Did they find Abyssinian and Balinese before the kid got them?" Ken asked, his voice brittle and full of rancour over how his team mates had been dealt with by the boy he'd once trusted with his very life. With his heart. 

Nagi nodded and smiled, a shy expression. “They had to stop Abyssinian from killing him, but yes, they’re all safe.” 

"Hardly a loss if he had," Ken muttered sourly. He didn't give a rat's ass about Singapura. Not when he'd helped to train the boy how to fight with Yohji's own weapon never realizing he was training him to kill the older pair of Weiss. 

"We'll meet you in Sapporo," he added as he jogged off toward where he'd left his own bike. 

Nagi nodded once then, to Kai’s great surprise, disappeared in front of his eyes. He’d known he was a telekinetic but that must have been teleportation. How had Weiss three ever survived Schwarz? 

He stopped goggling and ran after Siberian, having the feeling that the man wouldn’t wait for him. He found him astride his motorbike, helmet and goggles in place, ready to go. He climbed on the back. 

Without saying anything Ken handed the boy the extra helmet he still carried. 

The last person to have worn it was Omi. Not Mamoru. Omi. His lover Omi. The smiling carefree boy he'd fallen in love with. Who he'd made love with. 

The pain rose up in his chest threatening to consume him but he shoved it away. 

It didn't mean shit. 

Betrayal. Being double-crossed, treated like trash. None of it mattered anymore. It was a road he'd been down already, a familiar rut in his life. 

And like his life it didn't mean anything. 

He waited for the kid to be ready then he hit the accelerator and spun the bike around, spraying leaves and pine needled everywhere as the motorcycle tore out of the trees. 

In moments they were out of the camp, the first few confused people leaving the cabins to milling around wondering what all the noise was.


	8. Bitter Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Aya gradually returned to consciousness, disoriented and angry. Memory returned and he felt bile rise in his throat. Takatori Mamoru wanted them dead, had sent Singapura to do it. That thought made him struggle back into full awareness. Where was Yohji? Was he safe? 

He opened his eyes on a strange room. He found he could move easily enough and he was not restrained. He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He appeared to be in a high-class hotel room, perhaps part of a larger suite. Yohji was in the other queen-sized bed and Aya stumbled across the intervening space to check on him. 

The blonde was pale, his hair damp with sweat and he'd been stripped to his underwear. 

Jade eyes opened blearily and he reached up to take Aya's hand in his. His palm was sweaty. "Hey baby," he murmured. He sounded tired, and his eyes closed then opened again as if he'd dozed off for a second. "You okay?" he asked. "Had me worried." 

“I’m fine. What about you?” Aya asked. “I thought you weren’t going to accept that bitch’s so-called help.” 

Yohji gave a harsh bark of laughter, "Believe me, I didn't intend too. She did something to me, I just couldn't help myself." He held onto Aya's hand a bit tighter. "You're mad, huh?" 

Aya was silent for several minutes. “I have reason to be more than mad,” he said finally. “The whole mission was a set-up, an excuse for Singapura to kill us. There can only be one person who gave him that order. And yet Schwarz wouldn’t let me kill the boy.” 

He glanced at Yohji. “And I don’t know if Bengal was involved or not.” 

"He was following orders." Yohji sighed, "Don't pretend you wouldn't have killed me or Ken or even Omi if you'd been ordered to do that instead of joining Weiss." 

“Perhaps,” Aya said after a moment, “but not if I’d been accepted as part of your team. I realise Singapura was following orders. It was whose that hurts.” 

"Yeah," Yohji agreed despondently, tears filling his eyes. He turned away from Aya, curling into a foetal position around a pillow. "And then I fucked up on top of it. I didn't mean to fuck up." 

“I doubt if they gave you much choice,” Aya said. “Ise was involved in your attempted abduction and he was a telepath.” He frowned. “Rosenkruez seems to want you for some reason. Do you have any idea why that might be?” 

"None," Yohji replied. "But I'd bet whatever the reason it’s why we're here with Schwarz. That bastard Crawford wants us for a reason." He wiped at the tears streaking his face and sighed. 

"I don't suppose you'd consider joining me in this bed for while. I feel..." he shrugged, "disoriented and just.. weird. Here but not here if that makes sense." 

Aya blinked, still somewhat in shock at his changed relationship with Yohji. “Move over then,” he said. When Yohji shifted over he lifted the covers and slid under them, spooning his body around Yohji’s. Somehow it felt right which surprised him. It perhaps shouldn’t surprise him but he still felt so undeserving of anyone’s love, even that of another killer. 

A smile eased across Yohji's face as Aya held him close. "Don't leave me, Aya. Just promise you won't ever leave me," he murmured as he pressed closer to the red-haired man. 

That was his greatest fear now, losing the last person that meant anything, that he could trust with his life. 

“I’m not going anywhere, Yohji,” Aya said quietly. “You’re all I’ve got.” 

A couple of light raps on the door heralded an unwanted intrusion. Schwarz come to talk, or make demands. 

"Tell them to go away," the mumbled words came from a Yohji already at the verge of sleep. 

Aya sat up. “Who is it?” he demanded. “We’re still getting over the effects of your damned drugs!” 

"I can go away and come back later, but I brought some food if you want it." 

It was a voice that Aya knew well. 

Yohji sat up abruptly. "Holy shit." Jade eyes were staring at the door, then at Aya. "Is that...?" 

“Hidaka,” Aya breathed. Then he was out of the bed and across the room, throwing the door open. He took in the familiar figure, his eyes staying locked on the haggard expression although he said nothing. They’d learned long ago not to pry into each other’s feelings, those they would share only if they wished to. 

“Come in,” he invited. 

Ken stepped into the room, the smell of Chinese food entering with the bag he was carrying. He put the food down on the dresser and turned to regard Aya. He reached out and touched the man's arm as if reassuring himself that his team mate was real. 

Still not saying anything he went to the bed and just gazed at Yohji for a moment. A slow nod and the ghost of a smile then he was on the bed, knocking Yohji backwards, his arms around the blond, the man pinned under him. "God I thought you were dead!" 

"Christ! Ken! Shit!" Yohji gasped as his ribs creaked in reaction. 

Ken let Yohji go and almost launched himself at Aya giving the red-head a more restrained very brief hug. 

Surprisingly, Aya hugged him back. "It’s good to see you, Hidaka," he said. Then he shocked Ken by climbing back into Yohji’s bed. 

_Lovers. That could explain why he really wanted them dead. It could compromise the team, but I know that wasn't it. He considered them to be monsters like Schwarz. But they were our friends, they saved his life and mine too._ A lump grew in his chest and he struggled to breathe, to swallow, fists clenching for an instant before he started to empty the bag of food. 

"There's enough chow mien for the three of us," he told them. "Crawford thought we'd like a few hours to ourselves." 

A frown darkened Yohji’s face and he glanced at Aya, one eyebrow arched at the way Ken was acting. 

Aya was watching Ken, trying to figure out what was bothering him. He was acting like he’d been acting just after killing Kase only this time it was worse. It was as if a light had gone out inside Ken Hidaka. There were other things he had to know first, though. 

“Do you have any idea why Schwarz have abducted us?” he asked. 

"They haven't abducted anyone. They're helping us, Aya," he stated. "I'm not really sure why, but Rosenkruez is after us." He glanced from Aya to Yohji, "All of us, and not just for the roles we played in bringing down the Elders whom they didn't really give a shit about." 

He offered a Styrofoam container of food to Aya. "Crawford was insistent that we all eat." 

"I'm not hungry," Yohji said. He hadn't even sat up after Ken knocked him flat. 

Aya glanced at his lover but said nothing. Yohji was still getting over whatever crap had been forced into him. 

He took the container and a pair of chopsticks from Ken and began to eat as he tried to make sense of things. “So, the Elders and Essett weren’t the ones in charge. Rosenkruez are. We were told that much.” A bitter tone had entered his voice as he spoke. “Was Bengal part of the plot to kill us?” 

He didn’t think the ex-yakuza boy had been anything more than an expendable patsy but he wanted to be as sure as he could be. The recent betrayals had been too raw for him to take anything at face value anymore. 

"No. The Takatori bastard put that bullshit Endgame mission completely on Zeshin." The muscles in Ken's jaw bunched the man so angry and hurt that the agony showed in his expressive gaze. "He had me train him with the harigane. Fucking stupid moron that I am, I did it too." 

Ken put the container of food down by Yohji. "Both those kids were nothing but expendable garbage, like the three of us. Bastard didn't give a shit about any of us. Not them, not the two of you and sure as hell not me!" 

"I told you, I'm not hungry, Ken." Yohji closed his eyes, too tired to either eat or talk. Sleep was the only thing that appealed to him. About a month's worth would be about right. 

"Don't argue, just eat it Yohji. Crawford says you're suffering malnutrition from boozing it up, and the drug you were given is best fought off by food and rest." 

Aya glared at both his team mates. Yohji for being fool enough to risk his health with booze and malnutrition and Ken for hassling his lover. 

“Eat it, Yohji,” he growled. “Ken, back off and give him room.” 

He ate his own portion in silence for a moment or two. He supposed he shouldn’t hate Zeshin. The boy would have been given no choice in the matter, after all. And if Takatori had taken him as a lover, just as he had Ken… No! He needed to stop thinking about that particular betrayal. 

“What else have Schwarz seen fit to share with you?” he asked. 

"Not much. " Ken replied taking the only chair in the room to try and eat. He had no appetite and after a few bites he set the food aside. " Prodigy is the one that told me the two of you were alive. Crawford hasn't really shared any information. I think he's waiting to dump the information on us at the same time, or the prick just plans to keep us in the dark and play fearless leader." 

He sat back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. His voice dropped to a harsh edged whisper, "You think you know someone, you think you can trust them and then, ping, the pretty picture shatters and you realize you've been played for a fool, not once, but twice by people you loved." 

The brown eyes closed, "This fool ain't going down that road no more." 

Aya couldn’t blame Ken for his attitude but it hurt him just the same. “So all five of us are here, wherever here is,” he guessed, deliberately changing the subject. “At least I’m assuming someone picked Bengal up. It just remains to find out what Crawford wants with us.” 

He turned to gaze at Yohji who was still prodding at his food without eating it. “Try a couple of mouthfuls at least,” he suggested, his voice softer, “then you can go back to sleep.” 

The blonde nodded and shoved some of the food into his mouth. Normally he loved chow mien, but his desire to eat had abandoned him weeks ago, right about the time he'd thought only he and Aya had survived the encounter with the Essett Elders at the Ani. 

He chewed and watched Ken, seeing something in the man's gaze he'd only seen once before: the day he'd killed Kase. 

Jade eyes widening he almost dropped the food. Oh shit... oh shit. He set the container down and got unsteadily to his feet, going over and putting his arms around Ken. 

The younger man remained rigid but Yohji felt a tremor pass through him. Grief bottled up, crushing his friend's soul. 

"I'm sorry Ken," he murmured. 

"For what? You didn't do anything." 

"No, but you did, didn't you?" Yohji asked, turning to look at Aya he silently mouthed, 'He killed Mamoru.' 

"Isn't that how you handle betrayal and a dark beast when you're Weiss?" Ken answered. 

Remembering Neu, Yohji said, "Yeah, it is." 

Aya kept his thoughts to himself, unwilling to upset either of his friends any further. He realised that if Mamoru really was dead it would be a lot easier for them to escape Kritiker‘s clutches. And they had to escape Kritiker’s clutches. He only had to look at Yohji and Ken to realise that they could not continue in their present life. 

This made Schwarz’s unexpected help more intriguing and he found he was eager to hear whatever Crawford would choose to share with them. He had the intelligence to realise that it wouldn’t be everything but he would insist on enough information to make a viable decision. 

After a moment Yohji got off of the floor and moved to sit down on the bed where Aya had awakened because it was closer to the brunette. 

"So what now?" he asked no one in particular. 

“We see what Crawford has to say,” Aya said. He wondered if Singapura knew that Mamoru was dead and if that knowledge would actually change anything. 

"Crawford," Ken muttered the name and shook his head. "This is just too weird." He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "The last two days have been like some kind of totally fucked up dream." 

Aya opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by a tentative knock at the door. He frowned slightly but invited whoever it was to enter. The door opened to admit Kai and Nagi. 

The telekinetic having delivered Kai turned as if to go but Aya stopped him with, “Can you tell us anything?” Nagi turned back. 

“I might not be able to add very much to what you already know except that we face a common enemy for once.” 

"Rosenkruez, right?" Ken asked, trying to get Nagi to stay and tell him what he did know. 

Yohji frowned, "Where's Zeshin?" 

Nagi nodded in answer to Ken’s question while looking uncomfortable at Yohji’s. 

“He’s under sedation,” Kai answered for him and sighed. “He’s determined to kill Schwarz and perhaps both of you still.” He shook his head in sorrow. “Believe me, I knew nothing about that.” 

"I think he's telling the truth, based on what the three of us know. It sounds like Persia stuck Zeshin with the task of killing us." Ken frowned, the expression more common lately than his easygoing smiles been during their days at the Koneko. 

"I feel sorry for the kid, really," he admitted. 

Ken shook his head, "Nothin' but trash put out for collection. That's us." He glanced at Bengal, "All of us." 

Kai nodded. “That has been made very clear to me right from the start,” he said bitterly. “I was given no choice though.” 

“You weren‘t the only one,” Aya said. “They could have proved Ken’s innocence if they’d tried. Choice is not something Kritiker is good at.” His eyes narrowed in memory of Birman’s words to him. “We are their dogs.” 

"Even Zeshin realized that," Yohji reminded Aya, "it was in that sketchbook." Jade eyes searched the room, "Is there anything to drink and I really need a cigarette." 

"Sorry," Ken said to the blond. "You're going to be drinking coffee, tea and soda from now on Kudoh. No more cigarettes either." 

Yohji blinked. "Excuse me?" 

"You hear me," Ken stated firmly. "If you want to kill yourself, use the damned harigane and get it over with. No more slow motion suicide." 

“Let him keep the cigarettes,” Aya said, “for now.” He caught Ken’s eye, trying to get across the idea that it would do Yohji more harm than good to go cold turkey on all his addictions at once. “Doesn’t Schuldig smoke? Maybe he can spare one.” 

"I'll find out," Ken said, wondering how Aya knew the Schwarz telepath smoked. Maybe from the smell. Aya always noticed things like that about people. He got up and left the room, showing the other Weiss that the only thing keeping them in there was a lack of interest in going out. 

Yohji got up off the bed and moved to the one where Aya was seated, picking up the food Ken had brought them and trying to get more of it down. 

“Does Crawford want to speak to us yet?” Aya asked Nagi. 

“He’ll speak when he considers the time to be right,” Nagi replied. “In the mean time you are to have rest, food and be comfortable. You are not prisoners.” 

It didn’t really answer any of the questions he had, such as, if Singapura was so intent on killing them, why were Schwarz keeping him alive? Then he remembered the boy’s unique DNA and it made sense. If he could see reason, he would be an effective weapon against Rosenkruez. So what did Schwarz want with the rest of them? 

His head was spinning with possibilities, all of which seemed crazy. 

Ken came back in with part of a pack of cigarettes and a disposable lighter. "Here," he said, tossing them to Yohji, "they're all yours compliments of the German bastard in the living room." He tossed them to Yohji, expecting the man to catch them. 

Yohji didn't, his ability to coordinate hampered by his deteriorated physical condition. The lighter hit the wall, the cigarettes landed in the food in Yohji's lap. 

"Thanks," the blond muttered as he fished the smokes out of the food. "Is it me, or does this stuff taste like crap?" he asked as he put the food aside for the second time. 

“It’s you,” Aya said without hesitation. “You have to eat something, Yohji.” 

The blond favoured his lover with a bland stare, but did what the man asked, picking up the food and trying to eat. 

Kai’s eyes widened as he realised something. They were polar opposites and yet he was certain that the two eldest Weiss were lovers. 

Weiss. Were they even Weiss anymore? Wouldn’t Persia see their defection with Schwarz as a betrayal? No. Wait a minute. It was Persia who had apparently ordered Singapura to kill them. Had this ‘Endgame’ mission included him? If so, what the hell were they going to do? 

Aya turned his attention back to Ken and Nagi as the two sources of information in the room. “Was Bengal to be killed also?” 

Aya amazed Bengal quite frequently and now was one of those times. How had he known to ask the very question that was bothering him? 

"Not as part of Endgame," Ken replied. "But I've got the distinct impression that Bengal, Singapura and I were on his 'to do list' right after he'd had you two taken care of." The bitterness in Ken's tone was close to toxic. 

Ken abruptly got to his feet, "I'm sorry, I've got to get out of here for a bit." He headed for the door. 

"Ken, sit down," Yohji said. "If I have to eat, you have to stay here." 

“Why?” Kai asked. “Why would he want to kill his own team?” 

"That's a good question, too bad I don't have any answer for you," Yohji said as he forced another bite of the food down. It tasted too salty to him, but after being drugged with who the hell knew what, his sense of taste was probably off. _If it was the crap that bitch gave you, then explain why you've had this problem for weeks._

He honestly knew what the problem was, and he also knew he'd better eat or Aya might just get annoyed with him. 

From the way Ken was acting, it might be a good idea not to further stress the brunet with his own problems. 

"I know the answer, but it didn't make any sense when he told me, and it doesn't make any sense now." Ken informed them. "He said Yohji and Aya were freaks just like Schwarz. I don't know why Takatori thought that, but he did and it scared the hell out of him." 

Aya frowned while Nagi winced at the word ‘freaks.’ “You’re right, Hidaka, it makes no sense at all,” the redhead said. 

“Like most mundanes the thought of psi power terrifies him,” Nagi said in a small voice. “He could only see me as some sort of killing machine.” His gaze met Aya’s and the dark blue eyes were cold as he added, “it made me hate him.” 

"Correction, 'terrified' him," Ken stated as he ran a hand through his hair, pulling on it in an excess of emotion. Kase's betrayal had been painful. Killing him had left an ache in his heart that had yet to heal. But this... to be so horribly betrayed by someone he'd trusted with his very life... it was too much. Worse he knew that the younger man's death was going to be very hard for someone else to bear. 

"Singapura wants to go back to Mamoru, but all he'll be going back to is a funeral. How can I tell him I killed his lover for betraying us?" 

“I don’t give a fuck how Singapura feels,” Aya said coldly. Then he did the double take. “You killed him?” He thought about the ramifications of that for a moment or two. “Makes no difference. Kritiker will still want us dead.” His attention turned back to Nagi. 

“Are you honestly saying that he believed us to have powers like yours? That’s crazy, we have no power at all.” 

_Oh, and why have you got shields strong enough to keep Schuldig out then?_ A little voice asked him. He ignored it. 

Yohji frowned, "You know Aya, there might be something to it. I mean why else would they have been trying to kidnap me rather than just slit my throat?" 

It bothered Yohji to some degree that Aya hadn't put the numbers together and figured out that Ken had killed their one time team mate. Ken didn't handle betrayal and liars well, and the brunet must have been in a fury of hurt when he found out that, not only were the two of them alive, but they were the targets of murder themselves. 

Murder ordered by Mamoru who'd once been their own team mate. _Omi what happened to you? Why did you fear us so much you wanted us killed?_

It hurt the blonde to think how much the boy must have changed to be able to order their deaths. But he also realized that maybe Omi hadn't changed a bit. He'd always been the most pragmatic about what he was having been raised by his own father to be a murderer. 

Ken was staring at nothing, but he finally nodded, "Yeah. He must have, but I don't know why." He frowned, "And if he planned to kill the pair of you for being... whatever you are, then why would he have taken Zeshin into Kritiker? The boy is a complete freak, a deliberately engineered one." 

“I doubt if he would have outlived us by very long,” Aya said, his brain finally functioning properly again. The food must have helped, he realised. “My guess is he was recruited, programmed and set in motion with the idea that it takes a fr…talent to kill a talent.” Yohji was right. Rosenkruez wouldn’t bother taking him alive unless he was of some value to them. 

"Makes as much sense as anything else these days," Yohji remarked off-handedly. "One thing I'd like to know, how did Persia know? We don't know ourselves so how could he?" 

Brown eyes still fixed on blue infinity, Ken's mouth twisted into a frown, "What do we really know about Kritiker? I mean, really know? Not jackshit, that's what. We've killed for them and done their dirty work," he glanced at Aya, "we've been their dogs but when you really get down to it, what did we really do? We offed 'Branch A’ of the Takatori family for 'Branch B' and that was it. In the end it was all about power and politics." 

Aya made a derisory little sound though it wasn’t aimed at Ken. Kritiker had used his own thirst for revenge against Takatori Reiji against him often enough. Riot had been a Takatori business as had the yakuza gang that Kase had tied himself to and Kritiker had known that without lifting a finger to help either Asuka or Ken. Of all their agents only Botan had ever offered him any real reasons to continue and he’d paid with his life. 

Kai grimaced. “They don’t offer much of a retirement plan do they?” 

Yohji shook his head, "No kid, they don't." 

"Just a nice plot in the nearest cemetery," Ken stated, gone back to staring at nothing. He remembered everything that had happened to him from the day he'd met Kase to the day he'd killed the Takatori who'd been his lover once, once when he'd still been Omi, his friend. 

For the first time in his life he understood why someone would want to get drunk and stay that way. For the first time he finally understood what had made Yohji the way he was. 

Pain so great the only way to dull it was to drown yourself in a river of booze. A sea of faces, bodies, and meaningless relationships. 

Anything just to make the hurt stop. 

Yohji was watching Ken carefully, seeing something in the younger man's expression he was all too familiar with from staring into mirrors. 

A soul going to pieces, a mind slipping into darkness. 

He touched Aya's arm, to get his lover's attention. 

Aya turned his pale violet gaze on Yohji, his concern for Ken apparent for anyone who could read him. 

The jade eyes regarding the red-haired man were no less worried. Ken was coming unravelled as badly as Yohji had after the Ani, after Asuka and Neu. 

For himself, Aya didn’t care about the death of Takatori Mamoru. Tsukiyono Omi had died at the Ani Museum and he’d already wasted enough time mourning him. To him they were two separate people, but he knew that wasn’t the case for Ken. 

Hidaka looked at Mamoru and saw Omi‘s smiling face until the young politician spoke with the words of a Takatori. 

Ken stood, "I really need that walk," he stated as he headed for the door. 

Before Ken could reach it, the door opened and Schuldig’s orange mane appeared round the edge of it. “Crawford says it’s time to answer your questions now, kitty-cats,” he said. 

Spotting Nagi in the room he smirked at the youngest Schwarz. Nagi glared back and Schuldig chuckled and retreated. 

Yohji frowned, "Are there some clothes I can wear? I'm not going out there in my underwear." 

Ken pointed to the dresser and walked out. 

The blond shook his head, "You as worried about him as I am?" he asked Aya. 

“Of course I am,” Aya said, “although I have no idea what to do about it.” 

Kai and Nagi, having followed Ken out of the room, Aya allowed himself to show some weakness and leaned his head against Yohji’s shoulder. “I just hope we all have the strength to deal with what fate throws at us this time.” 

Yohji wrapped his arms around Aya and held him for a moment, placing a gentle kiss on the man's hair, "I know the feeling, believe me."


	9. Filling in the Blanks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

They congregated in the main room of what had turned out to be a fancy and very large penthouse suite. The original members of Weiss eyed Schwarz with some suspicion and sat as far from them as they possibly could. Bengal, after a moment’s hesitation joined Weiss. Of Singapura there was no sign which caused Aya to ask where he was. 

Crawford pointed to a closed door just as Berserker came out closing the door behind him. He had deep scratches across his face, that were seeping blood, a deep bite mark on his arm, and his tunic was torn. A fierce grin contorted his face, "Such a bad kitten that one is, not like the pretty ones sitting here so nice and cooperative." 

Farfarello held out his arm so the others could see, "The little shit bit me, look." 

Crawford nodded, "I warned you he would." 

"He's a fun kitty. I want to play with him again." 

Yohji frowned and shot a glance at Aya, the blond wondering what Farfarello meant by 'play' and not liking what came to mind. 

Aya could guess at Farfarello’s idea of play but had very little sympathy for Singapura since he’d attacked Yohji and himself. He was more concerned with what Schwarz wanted with them. The team was hardly known for its altruism after all. 

“Why exactly did you help us?” he asked. 

Now it was Bengal’s turn to shoot a startled glance at Aya. The redhead’s tone had been dipped in ice. 

Aya ignored both his team mates and kept his gaze on Crawford who was regarding the Weiss red-head with cool amusement. 

Schuldig chuckled suddenly and moved over so Farfarello could join him on the couch. “Such a suspicious mind, Abyssinian.” 

Farfarello was licking his bitten arm as he sat down, very close to his team mate, so close that their thighs were touching. 

Aya didn’t even glance at the telepath as he told him to ‘shut the fuck up.’ 

"Who said I was helping you, Abyssinian? I think of it more as helping us," Crawford replied, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He pushed his glasses up and added, "We could probably survive without the five of you, but I'll admit having you will make it much easier for us." 

The American motioned to Bengal, "He's only of minimal use, but I'm regarding this as a package deal, so," he shrugged, "we'll keep him too just so the bastards at Rosenkruez can't use him." 

Kai’s eyes widened at Crawford’s words although Aya showed no sign of surprise at all. Why would Rosenkruez be even vaguely interested in him? He turned to his leader. 

“Aya? What does he mean?” 

“That you have some kind of ‘talent’ that Rosenkruez would find useful,” Aya told him although he was still staring at Crawford. “You were probably next on Takatori’s hit list because he considered anyone with talent a freak.” 

“But…” 

“Wait for it,” Nagi said ironically, “I don’t have any talent. If I had a yen for every time I’ve heard one or other of you say that I’d be the new Rockefeller! You’ve got some psychometric power which, with training, you might even learn to use.” 

“Enough, Nagi,” Schuldig said quietly. “He was the least likely to realise.” He turned an ironic gaze on Ken. “Did you know that the Kritiker building was burnt to the ground after you left it?” 

Ken stared at Schuldig a frown darkening his face, "Why would you do that?" He turned his gaze on Nagi, anger colouring his voice, "I see how you want to help us." 

"Shut up and listen, Siberian. You might learn something," the American snapped. 

Crawford's dark-honey gaze locked with Abyssinian's, "Singapura is obvious. He came out of a lab experiment, some of the experiments that Masafumi based his own work on. Zeshin doesn't know that his memories are false implants and that his parents were Rosenkruez scientists." 

The man was still watching Aya as he continued, "Kudoh's power is starting to awaken. It's been dormant his whole life and would have continued to be dormant if not for the emanations from the Gate the Elders tried to open." 

He gave them a hard, almost brutal smile, "Our dear Balinese is an empath, which he's always had. How he slipped under Rosenkruez's psychic radar all these years is that his power also protects itself by dampening other psychics. That’s why Schuldig can't tamper with his mind the way he could fuck with Bombay. 

"Those are the most evident abilities." 

The blond Weiss snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, and next he'll be trying to sell us a bridge." 

Berserker chuckled. 

Crawford was smiling, "Ask yourself why I would bother helping the five of you if I couldn't make use of you? Ask yourself why the five of you are here, rather than lying dead at the bottom of the ocean under the remains of the Ani." 

He was still looking at Aya, "I saw something in you at that Human Chess game. Something I wanted." He crossed the room and moved behind the chair where Abyssinian was seated, leaning down to whisper into the red-head's ear, "Other than wanting to fuck you, what I saw was someone with power like my own. Someone able to peer into a fragment of time that hadn't happened yet." 

Yohji got to his feet, eyes full of fury, "Get away from him!" he snapped. 

Ken stood too, anger sparking to life in his eyes, along with a faint reddish tint that slowly spread across his entire body. "Crawford..." 

Crawford laughed, the sound low, sexy, a hand touching the side of Aya's face to make him turn his head toward Ken. "Look at him, Abyssinian. Really, really look at Siberian. What do you see?" he whispered. 

*A containment field around Kudoh and Hidaka would be advisable right now, Nagi, but don't stop them from using their powers. Abyssinian needs to see what they are because he is the one that can make them accept it.* 

Nagi gave one, abrupt nod of understanding and let his power fence off Yohji and Ken from the rest of the room and from each other. 

Aya shrugged Crawford off but he did gaze at Ken, attempting to see beyond the obvious, beyond the physical. Suddenly both he and Ken were in another place and time. He was screaming ‘do it’ at Ken and the brunette turned and sent a fireball at those chasing them. He came back to the present gasping. 

“He’s a fire starter,” he gasped when he could. 

"The term for what Hidaka is would be pyrokinetic," Crawford stated, still leaning down to whisper into Aya's ear. "Now tell us what you just saw. Tell us what just happened to you." 

"Crawford I mean it, get away from him!" Yohji snarled, taking a step forward. 

Ken's eyes lost all trace of the brown colour as he stood there, glaring hate at Crawford. "What are you talking about Aya?" 

Power, a lot of power washed against the field Nagi was maintaining around Yohji, the energy seeping into the boy, feeding his own ability. 

*Easy Prodigy, don't let it overwhelm you, just take it in slowly,* Crawford urged. He looked at Schuldig, *Take Nagi's hand and tell me what you feel.* 

Schuldig reached out for Nagi’s hand but as soon as he touched the telekinetic he snatched his hand back. *Mein Gott! He’s amplifying! I thought you said he would help silence the voices.* 

*What he can boost he can also shut down. Think about it, Schuldig. He can give you total silence or the ability to reach out and crush a mind the way you'd crush a bug.* 

"Look at them, Abyssinian. Look at your lover, go on," Crawford whispered into his ear, gently touching the side of the younger man's face to guide him. He knew Fujimiya's power was there, right on the surface, awakened by the touch of Kudoh's ability. 

“Get the fuck away from me,” Aya snarled. He pulled away from Crawford’s touch and stood up. He went to Yohji and touched his cheek. A feeling like an electric shock shot up his arm but he fought off the desire to pull his hand away. Behind him Nagi gasped as he had crossed his force field as if it didn’t exist. 

The tingle in his arm disappeared and he cupped Yohji’s cheek in his hand while speaking to Ken. “You have the ability to control fire, Hidaka. You can set fire to things with the power of thought and soon you’ll be able to manipulate and manifest it physically thanks to Kudoh.” 

He stared at Yohji, his eyes full of pain. “They want you because you can both amplify and quash powers. Schuldig needs a break from the voices before he goes mad with them. Rosenkruez would want you for the same reasons.” 

He remembered being in some sort of medieval time when he and Yohji had become lovers and turned to stare coldly at Crawford. “I manipulate time and space, don’t I?” 

"Yes," was Crawford's blunt reply. He wanted Abyssinian, and realized he wasn't going to get what he wanted which irked him and left him both angry and bitter about the situation. "And now that show and tell is over, I'll suggest that you Weiss get rested." He stared at Abyssinian, "Especially your lover-boy because we're going to need every bit of amplification he can give us in the next few days." 

Crawford walked out, the door to his room closing sharply putting an end to further conversation with the Schwarz leader. 

Kudoh had watched the man walk out, then he levelled his gaze on Schuldig, "If he thinks he's going to ever fuck Aya he's out of his mind." 

Ken shuddered, the fire in his gaze dying before he sat down abruptly on the floor, gaze full of confusion. "Aya? Yohji... what's happening to us?" He sounded like a lost and scared child, and he was looking at his own hands as if he'd never seen them before. 

“It’s why your old friend wanted you dead,” Schuldig said, “and one of the reasons that Farf and I tried to kill the little shit. Let me spell it out to you Ken-ken in words of one syllable that even you will understand. You have power. You’re a freak like us. So are Kudoh, Tanashi, for what it’s worth, Mitsuwa and Fujimiya. This didn’t suddenly happen, it was always there. You simply didn’t notice it.” 

“Shut up, Schuldig,” Aya said harshly. “And keep Mitsuwa away from me if you want him alive.” He turned his head to glare at the telepath but instead his gaze fell on Nagi who looked like a startled hare. He remembered the tingle down his arm and realised what he must have done. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said. “I don’t even know how I crossed your force field.” 

“I do,” Nagi whispered, “you stepped through a split second of time.” 

"Chronomancy, the ability to control time. Why do you think Crawford didn't kill you at the Chess game, or any time afterward? It's because he knew what you were and how you could be of use to us," Berserker said, staring at the red-haired kitten. "And you don't need to worry about Mitsuwa hurting your precious Kudoh. All he wants to do now is kill himself for failing to save his dead lover." 

Yohji wrapped his arms around Aya and held him close, eyes closed because he couldn't bear to see the anguish in Ken's eyes. 

"Why do we need Schwarz?" he asked softly. "We four could go it on our own, Aya." 

“Could we?” Aya asked. “With the whole might of Rosenkruez against us? The Elders were hard enough, Yohji. Between us we caused a fucking earthquake killing them. If it hadn’t been for Naoe we would all be dead.” 

He turned in Yohji’s arms and gazed up at him. “I wish we could go it alone,” he said, “but we don’t know the enemy. They do. Besides, Tanashi doesn’t have a strong or particularly useful gift.” 

“That’s not strictly true,” Schuldig said. “Had he been with you, Kudoh, when you met Miya, he would have been able to pick up her intentions from the glass she gave you. I realise that he couldn’t be and use it merely as an example.” 

"I think you are wrong, Aya. I think we can make it without Schwarz, the events of the Ani not withstanding. Besides there's no proof we caused that quake, it might have been the Gate itself that did it. The summoning was stopped abruptly, that could be why the quake hit." 

He pulled his lover a little closer, "Remember what Crawford said about why he saved us? It was because we can be useful to them. He didn't say we need them, Aya, he said they needed us." He met Schuldig's azure gaze, "That's it, isn't it Schuldig. Schwarz needs us but we don't need you. Even you said it Aya, Schuldig's going crazy..." his voice trailed off and he looked to the door where Crawford had vanished, eyes filling with a revelation he didn't voice. 

“Yes they need us more than we need them but we now have a common enemy that they know and we do not,” Aya argued. Seeing Yohji’s eyes widen, he asked what was wrong. 

Yohji frowned. "There's something wrong with that bastard. Something he's not telling anyone." 

Meanwhile, Nagi was staring at Ken. Of all of Weiss, he was the one who was finding it hardest to come to terms with his talent. "I could help you if you wanted," he offered. 

Ken shook his head and got up slowly, headed for the door out of the hotel suite, "I need to think a few things over. I'm going to take a walk." 

Crawford's mind reached out, *Prodigy, follow Hidaka discretely and keep him from doing anything stupid.* 

Nagi stood up and followed Ken out of the door without making it obvious that he was following the athlete. He too was worried about Ken and had been since that dreadful afternoon at the Kritiker building. He wondered how he would feel if one of Schwarz turned on the rest of his team and shuddered at the very thought. It must be even worse for Ken as Takatori had been his lover and not just family. 

Ken didn't wait for the elevator, he headed for the stairs. He wanted to be alone and taking the stairs would assure he didn't have to see anyone. 

_What have I done? What have I become? Wasn't being a murderer horrible enough, now I'm like them too, a freak, a monster._

He started to run, taking the steps two at a time, jumping when he could clear the distance to the landing at the turn of the steps, not caring if he hurt himself, or if he killed himself. 

Nagi too headed downwards but without bothering with either stairs or elevator. One second he was outside the suite the next he was on the sidewalk outside the hotel, feeling every lump and bump Ken was picking up on the stairs. There was no flash from Crawford showing Ken falling so he rounded the corner and waited for the Weiss brunette to emerge from the hotel. 

Ken reached the last flight of stairs and took them jumping downward as if he were on a mission. He crossed the lobby at a fast walk and came out of the hotel breathing hard, but probably not as winded as any of this team mates would have been, certainly not as winded as Kudoh. 

He reached the lobby doors and shoved them aside, and kept going at a brisk walk. He'd seen a park not too far away. A place he could go off and just be alone. 

Nagi peered round the corner in time to see Ken head off in the opposite direction. That gave him a fairly good idea of the brunette’s destination and his worry turned into a little shiver of fear. It was dark and quiet in the park at this time; the perfect place to do something stupid. He set off after the larger man, determined to keep him in sight. 

Ken didn't care that the park was technically closed for the night. He hopped the gate with ease and kept walking. There was a nice cluster of trees, a place to go where no one could see him. 

He took off running, flat out, holding nothing back. 

It was past the time to hold back, and far past the time for him to be where he was and what and who he was. 

Nagi knew exactly the spot in the park that Ken was aiming for and teleported over the fence and towards the thickest cluster of trees. 

* * * * * * * 

Yohji was confronting Schuldig with, "...I can feel something wrong with Crawford. What do you know about..." the jade eyes went blank, and Yohji blinked before he bolted for the door, "Aya come on, Ken's going to try and kill himself!" 

Aya caught Yohji’s arm. “Where?” he demanded. 

"I think it's a park," the blonde answered as he shoved the door open.' 

The Schwarz leader shoved open the door of his room. "Freeze!" Crawford barked out at the pair of Weiss. 

Aya came to a halt. Yohji’s vague description of a park had not been enough for what he’d had in mind anyway. “Naoe had better know what he’s doing,” he said. Then he turned towards the bedroom in which he’d awoken. The first, tentative but deliberate use of his power had left him exhausted. 

Yohji looked from Crawford to Aya, then back to the American, "You want him alive. We can keep him from killing himself, why not let us go?" 

"Because seeing the pair of you reminds him of what he did to Takatori. Let Nagi handle it." Even to the Weiss Crawford appeared tired, his face pale, mouth a tense line. 

"I don't think I'm the only one that needs to rest," Yohji muttered as he reached out to support Aya who'd swayed on his feet. "What's wrong?" he asked. 

Berserker left the couch where he'd been watching all the fun, motioning to Schuldig to follow him as he headed for Crawford. "For once I think the kitten has it right. Let's tuck Brad into bed, shall we Schuldig?" 

Schuldig nodded and stood up in his turn. He helped Farfarello to support Crawford and the three of them left the room. For once the man made no protest at their aid. 

Aya leaned against Yohji. “I’m tired, Yotan. Let’s go to bed. You need to rest and so do I. Naoe will make sure Ken comes to no harm. I’ve never known the boy to use his power to harm.” 

"Yeah, I know. I know a few things about him that I've never told anyone. He's really not a bad kid, Aya." Yohji braced his team mate up and got Aya into the bedroom. 

"I guess we can trust Prodigy." Yohji stopped walking, "Say... I think the kid's got a crush on him. I mean think about how he was watching Ken." 

“I know, Yotan, I know.” 

Yohji smiled, "I should have noticed it sooner, but I've been too busy watching you." The blonde gently kissed his lover as he kicked the bedroom door shut. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken tested the tree branch one last time, making sure it would hold his weight by jumping up and down on it. No ominous cracking noise told him the branch was giving so he slipped his belt off and considered how best to go about hanging himself. 

Maybe he'd need his shoe laces too. If he'd been smart he'd have brought something else. A couple of hotel towels perhaps. 

Nagi stood a little distance away watching with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He was beginning to think that everyone he ever cared about was doomed. First Tot, then Mamoru, who he’d liked at first, and now Ken. Suddenly he was angry and the branch Ken was testing started to shake ominously. 

The brunet's foot slipped and he pitched headlong out of the tree, laughing at the absurdity of falling and breaking something other than his neck. 

Only he didn’t hit the ground at any speed, rather he floated down to land gently on his feet. Nagi wondered what his reaction to that would be. 

Ken's reaction was perfectly predictable, "Naoe where are you! Never mind, just go away!" 

“And let you do something stupid? I don’t think so.” He stepped into view and stared coldly at Ken. “Your friends have mourned for you once, don’t make them do it again, you selfish idiot!” 

Ken stalked toward the younger teen, glaring at him, dim red embers awakening in his eyes. "Aya and Yohji have each other, they don't need me! No one fucking needs me!" he shouted, fists clenched, the muscles in his jaw working as he gritted his teeth. 

“They might well have each other but they still need you,” Nagi said. “They trust you where they don’t trust us or even Bengal for that matter. They too were betrayed and it nearly cost them their lives but neither of them seem suicidal.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he should tell Ken the truth. 

"The one person who I thought I could trust, who I thought really needed and wanted me turned out like the last one. He betrayed me. Both of them did. Both of them," Ken's voice broke, tears filling his gaze and he abruptly turned away from Nagi, "Just go away, please. Just leave me alone." 

Then the words spilled out of Nagi anyway. “I need you.” 

Now he’d done it. What had possessed him to be so stupid? 

Ken turned around, gape-mouthed to stare at the young telekinetic. He closed his mouth, shook his head, "Don't even try to play that game, Naoe. It won't work because I know you don't really mean it." He shook his head, "Don't play games like that, not even for Crawford." 

Nagi stared. Games? He’d opened his heart and been accused of playing games! Suddenly a strong wind blew up, surrounding Ken with fallen twigs and other debris. An invisible fist punched him in the mouth with such force that it knocked the athlete into the trunk of the tree he’d been going to use. 

Ken hit the tree and fell to the ground stunned, mouth full of blood, dazed and seeing stars. He remembered the Ani, remembered seeing Omi, his Omi thrown into a column with so much force he'd thought his lover would die. 

_Omi. His lover. His betrayer._

It hurt. It hurt so much, his heart torn to shreds by a betrayal so painful and bitter that Kase's paled in comparison. 

He got to his feet, spitting blood, ignoring the windstorm ripping at the trees and pelting him with twigs and leaves. "Did I get it right then? Is that why you're so pissed off?" 

He spit out more blood, "What game is Crawford really playing with us, Naoe?" 

“This has nothing to do with Crawford,” Nagi said. “I’m pissed because you think I’m playing games. I’m not Weiss so I’ve never learned to play that sort of game. I nearly killed myself trying to save Tot against Brad’s wishes. I was prepared to do things like that for you too but I was obviously wasting my time.” 

The tone was almost as icy as Aya’s on a bad day. “As for Crawford’s plans, well he wants you alive. Me? I’m past caring. You want to kill yourself, be my guest.” 

"Everyone fucking plays games with me, Naoe! Everyone! Kase, Omi... fuck even Yohji screwed me over and kept me from getting the hell out of this when I had a chance!" the brunet snarled angry and loud, shouting at the younger boy. 

"I'm tired of this shit! Go on, walk away, fuck you too! Fuck all of you!" 

“From what I know of Kritiker, Yohji probably saved your ass. Or are you still naïve enough to think they’d have just let you go?” Nagi sighed and relented on the minor tornado as his temper cooled. 

“You want to know Crawford’s plans? I don’t know the details but I can tell you this, he’s always worked towards our freedom. Now he’ll work towards yours too. Freedom from Esset, freedom from Kritiker, freedom from Rosenkruez. He’s the only chance any of us have of getting out of this alive.” 

Ken spit out another mouthful of blood and reached up to touch the inside of his cheek. One of his teeth felt loose and he frowned. It wasn't the first time he'd been hit hard enough to loosen a tooth or two, but the last time it had been Farfarello who'd done it. 

"Yeah, Yohji probably saved my ass, and Yuriko's too, knowing Kritiker." He shook a few clinging leaves out of his hair, "We're free of Kritiker now, though how long that lasts is anyone's guess if we stay here in Japan." 

He turned pain filled brown eyes on Nagi, "After what's happened they are bound to come after me. The others too. And then there's Rosenkruez. I don't think they're planning on letting Schwarz or us off easily. Not if Yohji's as important as Crawford thinks." 

He sighed and leaned back against the tree Nagi had thrown him into. He was starting to hurt, but the pain inside was still far worse than that of bruised muscles from the impact with the tree. 

Nagi shrugged. “Why should you care?” he asked. “You just think we’re playing games and besides that you want to kill yourself. Never mind that a pyrokinetic might just be needed. Oh, fuck you too, Ken! Until you can stop wallowing in self-pity, you’re of no use to anyone. I was hoping we could be friends, at least, but what’s the point?” 

He turned away but then thought of something and turned back. This might be the only chance he ever got… 

Using his power to push Ken back against the tree and hold him there, Nagi stepped forward and kissed the startled brunette. 

It did startle Ken, his brown eyes widening in shock. Completely taken off guard the brunet made no protest as the boy kissed him. More shocking to Ken was the response from his own body. 

He hadn't been kissed in months, not since before the incident at the Ani that had taken Omi from him forever. 

Nagi pulled away, trembling slightly at his own forwardness. “Gomen,” he murmured, “gomen nasai.” 

He wanted to run away and hide from his own embarrassment. He really should have thought it through but Ken always seemed to play havoc with his carefully controlled emotions. 

Ken shook his head, "Never apologize for showing someone how you feel, Nagi," Ken said softly before he closed the space between them and pulled the smaller teen into an embrace accompanied by a passionate kiss. 

Ken knew he shouldn't do it. He was certain it would just lead to more hurt and pain, but he also realized he didn't want to die, and that what he was really looking for was another chance to love and be loved. 

But this was Schwarz, and he was also just as sure he was setting himself up for another dose of betrayal. And as with most things, the third dose would be fatal for them both if it came to that. 

Back in the hotel room Crawford's eyes glittered with satisfaction. At least part of the plan was working. Now he just had to pull the rest of them in.


	10. The Little Details

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn.
> 
> Slight non-con warning for this chapter.

It was well before dawn the next morning when a light went on in Crawford's bedroom. The American turned on the computer as he sat down, still in his pyjama bottoms, hair mussed from sleep. 

He'd made his decision, now all that remained was to set things in motion. 

Bangkok was where they would go. His own money could carry them all in complete luxury with no difficulties, and it would buy the cooperation of local police and government agencies when needed. And those who could not be bought would be controlled. Schuldig was good at convincing even the most reluctant official or policeman that everything was as it should be. With Kudoh's help there would be almost nothing the German couldn't handle. 

Even the voices that were slowly driving him mad could be silenced. 

Yes, having Kudoh and Fujimiya would make their lives so much easier. Hidaka was an added blessing and the two younger boys had their uses, though convincing Abyssinian not to kill Singapura was going to be a challenge. 

He sighed and brought up the web browser. He had to book a flight to Bangkok for them all in first class because travelling with a sedated boy and a drugged Farfarello would be easier in that section. 

He considered booking an executive flight, but decided against it since it would draw the attention of Rosenkruez and might serve as a flag for Kritiker also. 

*Schuldig, are you awake?* He knew the German was probably sound asleep in Farfarello's arms, if the man was able to sleep at all. Even with the background static of the madman's lightly sedated mind to help blot out some of the incessant voices that plagued the telepath it was getting harder and harder for Schuldig to rest. 

Whether Fujimiya liked it or not, tomorrow night Schuldig was going to be sleeping in Kudoh's arms just so the telepath could get some respite from the encroaching madness nibbling away his increasingly tenuous grip on sanity. 

*Schuldig?* he tried again. 

*Ja, vater, I’m awake.* Schuldig’s mental voice sounded more contented than it had in a long time. *Kudoh was actively trying to quash his talent last night so I had a silent night.* There was Schuldig’s old snigger, which hadn’t been heard for several weeks and then a little yelp. Farfarello was obviously awake. 

*So, what needs doing?* 

*Roust the kittens and get them ready to leave Japan. They will need clothes and suitcases. Get them moving, fed and take them shopping. We're leaving for Bangkok from Osaka airport at seven this evening.* 

Even as he told the German their plans he was booking the flight. 

*And tell Nagi we need nice documents for them. I've still got our documents from when he took that trip to Hong Kong last year, but the kittens have nothing thanks to their sudden departure from Kritiker's loving embrace.* Brad himself was in fine form, the sarcasm so thick Schuldig could feel it like a heavy blanket across his mind. 

*Make sure both Kudoh and Fujimiya eat, and get the sleeping beauty kitten and take him along too. He needs to be a bit more alert for our trip. Just keep him out of Abyssinian's hands. 

*Use the platinum card I gave you and buy them whatever they want. Buy yourself a present but make sure it will fit on a plane and go through customs without a problem.* 

*Vater, please, customs is never a problem. If you want those pig-stickers that Abyssinian and Singapura are so fond of to go with us I’ll need enough compulsion to get a bullet train through! Seriously though, I won’t buy anything stupid. Besides, Farf would never let me buy my own Geisha. What about the other kitty?* 

There was another mental yelp which tailed off into a whimper. *Hold it for a moment, Farf, Brad’s giving me instructions.* 

He frowned, *Tell lover-boy that playtime is over,* he ordered. *Kudoh will help you convince customs in both directions that those pointy toys of the kittens are nothing. I just don't want you trying to get a suitcase full of fucktoys through, we've got enough of those already with the kittens.* As he thought that Schuldig could hear amusement from Brad's mind. 

*Get moving and take all the kittens with you. Take Farfarello along to ride herd on Singapura, he's going to be the most difficult to handle. We've still got to get to Osaka which means renting cars.* He sighed, *And Kudoh is going to be difficult over leaving his precious Super Seven behind.* 

*Can’t really blame him. Couldn’t we get it shipped for him? I mean if we’re not coming back it seems a shame to leave it behind. And I don’t need fucktoys. I already have plenty.* There was a mental sigh as he passed Brad’s message on to Farfarello. 

*Now Farf is sulking. The shops don’t open for hours yet, you know.* However, Schuldig was already in the process of climbing out of bed and dragging on some clothes. 

*I’ll wake Singapura last I think.* 

*Fine play a quick game with him and then get going. The last thing I need to deal with today is Farfarello in one of his sulks. But the minute you are both done get cleaned up and get the kittens moving.* 

*We'll meet back in the hotel lobby at noon. I've got a few little details to take care of myself.* 

*Okay,* Schuldig agreed and cut the connection before stripping off his clothes again. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya woke abruptly and slid silently out of the bed, careful not to wake Yohji. He had lain awake for a long time the night before as he thought things through. Singapura was obviously necessary to whatever plan Crawford had to get them to safety and, although the idea didn’t sit well with him, Aya was prepared to go along with the American for now. 

He slipped into a pair of sweatpants and padded out of the room on silent feet. Then he headed for Singapura’s room. 

The boy was asleep in the centre of a full sized bed, face down and stripped totally naked, one wrist cuffed to the headboard. 

Silver hair spilled across the boy, partially hiding his face, but doing little to conceal his body or the pale mottling down the middle of his back. 

Aya stared down at him. No wonder Takatori had taken him as a lover before sending him off to kill. The boy was stunning. 

Pale purple eyes narrowed as Aya remembered this same beautiful creature trying to kill Yohji. His Yohji. “Wake up,” he snarled. 

The boy gave a soft whimper sounding even younger than he was under the influence of the sedative he'd been dosed with, and his fingers clenched, gripping the sheets. 

Aya crouched by the bed and shook him none too gently by the shoulder. “I said wake up,” he repeated. 

Zeshin came awake, disoriented, unsure where he was because he'd been dreaming about Mamoru fucking him. 

Then he remembered. 

"Come to kill me then? Go ahead..." the boy replied. "I won't stop you," he pulled at the handcuff binding him to the bed, "I couldn't if I wanted too, and what does it matter anyway? I deserve it, don't I?" 

The boy’s face was battered and bruised and there were cuts on his arms that looked like Farfarello’s trade mark. Aya reached out a hand and touched one of the cuts, frowning slightly. If anyone was going to mark Singapura, it was going to be him. 

“You were following orders,” he said. “It was your so-called lover that deserved what he got. You were just like the rest of us. Expendable.” 

Zeshin flinched from Aya's touch, not because it hurt, but because he was waiting for more pain, another beating he deserved, like the one Farfarello had given him for trying to bite Schuldig. 

"He said he loved me... but he told Siberian the same thing." The boy bit back a sob and moved away from Aya, "That's all it ever was with him… lies and deceptions." 

“But just like Siberian, you were fool enough to fall in love with him,” Aya said with a bitter little snort. “I actually mourned him when I thought he was dead. He was like a little brother to me for so long and I’m certain Kudoh felt the same way.” 

"He told me he loved me. I don't understand why he lied. I don't understand anything," the boy whispered, his voice showing the pain he and Ken shared over the betrayal. 

Aya rose gracefully to his feet and sat on the edge of the bed. "Who beat you and why?" 

"Farfarello, because I tried to bite Schuldig." He tugged at the handcuff but gave up. 

“You deserved it then,” Aya said. “As for Takatori, he lied in order to manipulate you into doing what he wanted. That was the way he worked. None of that matters anymore. Both you and Ken have to move on.” 

The rattle of the handcuff distracted Aya for a moment. Memories of Singapura’s first day with them flooded his mind. He had been so respectful, so submissive. He shook his head to clear it, surprised at his reaction to those thoughts. 

“Now I have to decide what to do about you,” he said. “Schwarz seem to think you have some use alive. I’m not so sure. Right now I’d trust Farfarello at my back before I’d trust you.” 

The boy let his head fall back to the mattress and closed his eyes. "Gomen nasai," he whispered. "Kill me if you want. Like you said, I deserve it. I only tried to bite Schuldig, I tried to kill Yohji. So do it. I know it's what you want." 

“Yes, but it’s also what you want and I don’t feel much like pandering to your whims. You’re going to have to live with your own stupidity, just as I have to live with mine.” 

A pale, sword-calloused hand reached across to grab a fistful of Zeshin’s hair. “But I want you to pay for even thinking about killing Yohji. Killing you would be too quick, too simple. I don’t want that.” 

Zeshin's eyes came open at the painful grip in his hair, amber gaze full of fear that he quickly hid by lowering his gaze. "Then beat me, and make me suffer if it will make you feel better, Fujimiya-san," he relied, in a return to the submissive manner he'd first used around the older assassin. 

Aya felt a stab of pure lust as the boy’s demeanour changed. “Beat you? When you’re still carrying the marks Farfarello gave you? No. However…” 

His hand tightened and he leant forward, gazing into Zeshin’s eyes. “Bite me and I’ll pull your teeth out by the root,“ he warned before plundering the boy’s mouth. 

Zeshin froze under the contact of the older killer's mouth on his, his lips parting more from shock than anything else. 

The older Weiss was kissing him. It made no sense. 

And what he'd said about not beating him while he still bore marks from what Farfarello had done only added to his confusion. 

His free hand fell on Aya's shoulder, the boy's fingers tightening on the firm muscles. 

This wasn't like being kissed by Mamoru. The Takatori's kisses had always been light, teasing, this was very different. A possessing of his mouth unlike anything he'd ever experienced and he realized with hard clarity that, until that moment, he'd never really been kissed. 

Aya lifted his legs onto the bed, without breaking the kiss, and pressed his body against Zeshin’s. He wanted to claim all of the boy right now but his sixth sense, or whatever it was, was telling him that he didn’t have enough time. 

He pulled away from Zeshin’s mouth with a sound like a snarling lion and gazed down at the boy. “Just remember you’re mine now, to do as I please with.” 

Zeshin was trembling and the only answer he could manage was a slight nod. Nothing seemed to be working, at least nothing that wasn't flesh pulsing with lust. 

Aya smiled slightly at the boy’s reaction. It was everything he could have wished for. He disentangled his hand from the silver hair and pulled away, his eyes glittering. He wanted a long time alone with Zeshin but knew he wouldn’t get it in the next few days. Another, lighter kiss was the boy’s reward for submitting, and then Aya swung his feet back to the floor and stood up, ready to leave. 

The door opened, a slightly panicked Yohji filling it, "Aya?" His gaze fell on Zeshin and the first thing he noticed was the boy's undeniably aroused condition. He frowned eyes narrowing in a flash of jealous anger. 

"And here I was worried you might kill him," he snapped. 

“I won’t kill him,” Aya said calmly, “though he will suffer. He’s used to being someone’s dog, Yohji. Better it’s my dog rather than Crawford’s.” 

Yohji's anger went from simmer to flashpoint and he grabbed Aya by the upper arms, turning abruptly to slam the red-head into the door, pinning him there mouth closing over Aya's hard and hot. 

Aya returned Yohji’s kiss with a passion that had been missing from the one that Zeshin had received. He wanted to hold Yohji, reassure him, but the blond had his arms pinned to the door and he could only prove his love through this brutal kiss. 

But it wasn't enough for the blond. He wrapped his arms around Aya, pulling the younger man almost totally off his feet as he deepened the kiss, fingers digging into Aya's ass hard enough to bruise. 

He broke the kiss, stared into Aya's eyes and growled out, "You. Are. Mine!" before his mouth resumed the onslaught of Aya's mouth. 

Arms now free, Aya lifted them to rest around Yohji’s shoulders. His clasped hands pulled Yohji even deeper into the kiss. He was thrilled by this show of possessiveness in his lover. 

When Yohji actually needed to breathe again, Aya whispered, “Yours, Yohji, always.” 

Yohji lowered Aya back to the floor, his smouldering jade eyes burning into Aya's, "Now explain to me what you were doing in here and why he was hard." 

“I’ve already explained to you,” Aya said. “Take a long, hard look at him, Yohji. He can’t really function on his own. Sooner or later, someone was going to claim him. Takatori did and look what he was prepared to do for his approval. Do you really want someone like that belonging to anyone else?” 

Yohji looked at the boy lying on the bed, eyes bright with lust, lips parted in a way that made the blond very aware of his own erection. 

He shoved Aya toward the bed, "I want to see you kiss him," he virtually ordered. 

Aya recovered his footing and stood his ground. “Why?” he demanded, folding his arms. 

"I want to see if he's worthy of being kissed much less fucked by you, that's why," Yohji replied. 

Zeshin was glaring at Yohji, the look full of anger, "Both of you go away!" he snarled softly. "I hate all of you!" 

They were talking about him as if he was just a thing, an animal and it angered him. 

_But isn't that all you are?_ A voice in his head asked. _An animal, a stupid animal._

Aya totally ignored Zeshin’s interruption, his eyes on Yohji. “Come then.“ He unfolded his arms and took Yohji by the hand, drawing him towards the bed with him. “Look at him, Yohji.” 

He pointed out the slight, natural mottling of the boy’s pale skin, the cuts and bruises that Farfarello had inflicted. He placed Yohji’s hands on the boy’s skin so he could feel the texture of it before seating himself on the bed and inviting Yohji to join him. 

With a hand still resting in Yohji’s he leaned forward and kissed Zeshin once more. 

Yohji felt the satin skin of he boy's back, the odd blotches were soft too. Aya was right, there was something about the boy, just the way he lay there on the bed that seemed like a silent plea to be owned, mastered. 

Maybe this is what I've seen in him all along, the blond told himself. A deep seated need to be owned. 

The boy shoved at Aya, a growl rumbling in a warning deep in his chest and he tried to kick Yohji, instantly regretting it, knowing that there was going to be punishment. 

Aya pinned the boy’s free hand to the pillow and glared down at him. “Remember what I said about biting,” he said. “I meant it. Kicking isn’t allowed either.” 

He claimed the boy’s mouth yet again, prizing his lips apart and capturing his tongue. When he pulled away he turned to Yohji. 

“Now you kiss him,” he suggested. 

Yohji shook his head, "I want to watch Aya." But the blond’s hand was sliding along the curve of the boy's spine as he said it. 

"Stop... please. Stop," Zeshin whispered. But he knew they wouldn't stop any more than Mamoru had that first night when the Takatori had taken him. 

It had been hard and almost brutal, and it had hurt. But he'd gotten used to it, and had learned to like being touched and fucked. 

"Please.." his cock was betraying him, it stayed hard. 

One gold eyebrow arched at Aya and not for the first time Yohji wished he could talk to Aya silently the way the Schwarz could talk. 

There was a soft hum at the edge of hearing in Aya's head, a faint burring of sound that wasn't really coming through his ears. 

He knew from past experience with Schuldig that someone was trying to communicate with him. It didn’t feel like the German so he let his shields down enough to pick up what it might be. 

*Wish... could... talk... like... damned... Schwarz....* slipped brokenly into Aya's mind as Yohji leaned closer to Aya to watch him kiss the boy again. 

*He's beautiful, gods they are hot together. I want to see them fuck,* filled Aya's head with a voice he knew came from Yohji as the blond’s lips touched the nape of his neck. 

Zeshin turned his head to break the kiss, "Stop it!" he snapped. "Just stop it!" 

He kicked and this time he caught Yohji in the ribs, staggering the blond, Zeshin going wild and trying to escape, yanking his cuffed arm so hard the headboard cracked in reaction. 

Aya backhanded Zeshin’s face a couple of times to stop the hysteria. “No, you stop it,” he said coldly. “I told you earlier that I would make you suffer for trying to kill Yohji and I will. Live with it, because I have no intention of letting you die.” 

At the same time he contacted Schuldig. *Singapura needs some more medication.* 

*Yeah, okay, on my way. I’ve got orders to feed you and take you all shopping today anyway. Is cat boy up to that?* 

*As long as you don’t overdo the dosage.* Aya cut the connection and turned to Yohji. 

“Leave him for now, Yohji. He’s got to come to terms with things in his own time.” 

Yohji was rubbing his ribs, studying the boy who was curled up on the bed and sobbing quietly. 

He frowned because he could feel confusion and fear coming off the boy in waves. The fear was bitter, full of pain, the confusion like broken glass grating through the blonde's mind. 

Yohji swayed on his feet, knees going rubbery. "Aya..." there was panic in his voice, pupils gone wide, almost swallowing the jade green of the man's eyes. 

Aya was off the bed and supporting Yohji in a heartbeat. He didn’t know if it was his lover’s power kicking in or the drugs that bitch had forced into him at the camp, but Yohji was a mess. 

“You’re going back to bed until you’ve eaten,” he said in a tone that would take no arguments. “We have to go shopping today so you need your strength.” 

Aya’s eyes rolled as he said the word ‘shopping.’ It was a chore that he loathed with all his being even though, orange sweater notwithstanding, he knew just how to dress himself. He was a poster boy for the home shopping companies. 

Yohji shook his head, "I don't know what happened, everything started to spin and..." he looked at Zeshin still able to feel the emotions bleeding off the boy. 

"Get me out of here, Aya. I just..." he wobbled again, "out... I need out!" He almost pulled away from his lover in his haste to escape the boy's vicinity. 

Aya all but pushed Yohji out of the room and got him back to their own room as quickly as he could. Once there he lowered Yohji onto the bed. 

“Rest,” he said, “I’ll go and see if there’s any food to be had yet.” 

The blond crumpled onto the bed, still wide-eyed and staring, hardly hearing Aya anymore. Instead he was aware of everyone in the hotel suite. Able to sense their emotions, catch bits of their thoughts. 

Only three were totally absent from his mind, Schuldig, Crawford and Naoe, but he did catch a bloody-minded flicker of Farfarello's mind and he shuddered. 

"Aya... gods... Aya..." he reached out blindly for his lover. 

Forgetting about food for now, Aya cradled Yohji to him, inadvertently protecting his lover with his own strong shields. 

The door opened and Schuldig stood there for once minus his smirk. *Brad, Kudoh’s empathy has kicked in with a vengeance. Fujimiya is shielding him but he’s in a bad way.* 

A sense of pleased amusement came from Brad as he thought, *Ingratiate yourself with them, Schuldig, show them just how cute and cuddly you can be and help Fujimiya protect his lover. The shit that Rosenkreuz bitch gave him was strong, he's going through withdrawal, but it won't last long. Fortunately they didn't give him the right dosage since he seems partially immune to it. 

*Just remember we need to encourage their loyalty to us or this whole thing will fall apart. Of them all, we need Abyssinian and Balinese the most because one can save us all, and the other one will save you.* 

Yohji was staring at nothing, body starting to shake as the drug that Miya had given him finally started to purge itself from his body. 

"Aya... Aya... please..." his voice was a ragged whisper. 

Aya stared up at Schuldig, his eyes glinting like pale amethyst. “Are you just going to stand there or can you help him?” he demanded. 

“Calm down, Fujimiya, he’ll be fine. It’s the last of the drug that bitch gave him. Trouble is it tends to play havoc with any powers while it clears itself. Your shields are helping but I’m more used to shielding more than just myself. Do you trust me?” 

“No, but let’s do it anyway,” Aya said. 

Schuldig nodded and crossed the room to the bed, hunkering down to touch a hand to Yohji’s wrist. His shields took immediate effect and Yohji stopped feeling everyone’s emotions. He smiled at the blond. “The emotions flying around today are a bit hard to take, I imagine.” 

Yohji nodded and held tighter to Aya, his eyes closing. "Zeshin... he's... a mess..." the blond gritted out between clenched teeth. "Ken isn't much better... Kai is scared and lonely..." he shuddered, "Farfarello's... a fucking nutcase..." 

Schuldig chuckled. “Farf, I know about. He’s fine once you get to know how his mind works. The others have been though some big traumas just lately. They’ll pull through, I’m sure. With help.” Amused blue eyes glanced at Aya as he said the last. 

Yohji was relaxing, his breathing slowing along with his heart rate. "Aya... you wouldn't believe what Mamoru did to that kid. Shit, what a fucked up son of a bitch he was..." he whispered to his lover. "Fucking manipulative Takatori bastard." 

He was still holding onto Aya the way a man would cling to a life raft in a storm tossed sea, but the wrist Schuldig was holding soon became a hand as the blond moved to grip the telepath's fingers tightly. 

*Edge closer, see how close they will let you get, and how far they will let you go, Schuldig,* Crawford instructed. 

Schuldig followed instructions and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Aya growled softly at first but when Schuldig made no move to molest either of them he relaxed again. He turned his attention to what Yohji had just said. It was probably something he should know about if he was to take responsibility for Singapura. 

“What did he do, Yohji?” 

"What didn't he do...?" Yohji replied, his hold on Aya and Schuldig remained tight, the pair of them blocking out everything trying to pour into his head. 

He glanced at Schuldig, "I think he knows too," he told Aya. 

Nestling his head comfortably against Aya's shoulder, Yohji replied, "He fucked Zeshin and told him that was love for starters. I... saw how he hurt Zeshin, that wasn't love, it was pure abuse. I don't think that little Takatori shit knew anything about love." 

“Hardly surprising,” Aya said thoughtfully. “He was never raised to know love, was he?” But the images conjured in his mind were disturbing enough for him to want to go back to Singapura and let him off the hook for a while. Trouble was he would not leave Yohji alone with Schuldig. 

The dilemma was solved for him when the door opened to admit Nagi bearing a tray of food. “Crawford says you’re to eat before you go shopping,” the telekinetic said. He shot a really evil look at Schuldig. “Can’t you ever keep your hands to yourself?” 

“He’s actually helping Yohji,” Aya said, surprised by his own reaction to Schuldig. He wasn’t ready to trust just yet, but he was starting to believe that Schwarz meant them no harm. 

“Yohji, will you be ok if I go back to Singapura? I wasn’t exactly kind to him before.” 

The blond nodded and released his death grip on his lover, "I feel all right, a little weird but," he glanced at Schuldig, "yeah I'm fine. Something needs to be done for that kid, Kai too for that matter and..." he sighed, "Ken." 

He looked at Nagi, "I guess we owe you for saving him." 

Nagi set the tray down on the nightstand and gave a little ‘humph’ of exasperation at mention of Ken. That was just before he turned bright red, immediately attracting the attention of both Yohji and Schuldig. 

“You got something to tell us, kid?” Schuldig asked. 

Aya grimaced. “Don’t tease him, Yohji,” he said and left the room. Two minutes later he was staring down at Zeshin once again. The key to the handcuffs chaining one wrist to the bed was across the room on a desk. Aya picked it up. 

The instant Aya entered the room Zeshin curled into a bowing posture on the bed, all the fight gone out of him, his face streaked with drying tears. There were drops of blood on the white sheets, the boy's bottom lip swollen from Aya's slaps. 

"Gomen nasai, Fujimiya-san," he whispered. "Gomen nasai." From the way he was cringing it was very evident he thought Aya had come back to beat him for hitting Yohji. 

"I won't ever hurt him, please..." 

“I didn’t hit you for kicking Yohji,” Aya said quietly. “I hit you to calm you down. You were hysterical.” He weighed the key in his hand for a moment as he decided how to proceed. 

“You need to eat,” he said eventually. “We are to buy necessary clothing and then, I imagine, we will be leaving Japan. If I free you will you promise not to harm either yourself or anyone else?” 

The boy gave a nod of agreement, not speaking to the older man, too afraid he might do something to offend Abyssinian. He was tired of being drugged and in pain. 

He wanted to go home, but he realized that 'home' had been Mamoru, and the older teen was dead. Tears flooded his eyes again and he held back the sobs so he didn't offend the Weiss by crying. 

Mamoru had used him, he knew that now, but it hurt knowing that his lover could never explain to him why he'd done the things he'd done, and that he'd never be able to hold him or even say goodbye. 

Aya crouched by the bed, watching his eyes tear up. He opened the handcuffs and grabbed the boy’s abraded wrist, massaging the circulation back into the cold hand. “This needs binding,” he said. The boy was still attempting to fight back the tears. 

Suddenly, Aya enfolded him in an embrace, rocking him slightly. “He wasn’t worth your tears,” he whispered, wondering why there were tears in his own eyes. 

Feeling someone holding him, even if it was the man he most feared, set Zeshin off and he started to cry. But he didn't presume to hold the older man, wrapping his arms around his stomach as if he was trying to hold the pain in and just couldn't anymore. 

Aya prised Zeshin’s arms away from his stomach and draped them around himself before cradling the boy once again. “Hold me,” he ordered although his voice was gentle. 

He was rewarded with instant compliance, the boy holding on to him, or rather clinging and weeping onto his shoulder. 

Aya let him cry, knowing he needed this. Ken did too, but Ken would never cry in front of him or Yohji. That made him wonder if Nagi had seen the athlete cry. Somehow he doubted it, yet Ken was hurting badly. He’d had more time with…Omi’s lies than Zeshin had. 

Coming back to the present he was surprised to find himself rocking the boy again. This couldn’t continue all day. They had too much to do if they were going to save themselves from almost certain death. 

“Hush now,” he said. “We have much to do. I want you to come with me and eat.” 

Zeshin nodded meekly, wiping his eyes, biting back the grief as he was told to do. "G... gomen... n... nasai." 

“Don’t apologise,” Aya said, “just come and eat.” He rose to his feet in his usual graceful way and turned to hold out a hand to Zeshin. 

He took Aya's hand and got to his feet, stumbling from the drugs he'd been dosed with so heavily the night before. Then he looked down at himself, "Can I wear clothes or do you want me to be naked like Mamoru did?" 

Aya blinked at that revelation then he thought about the question. Zeshin was his property now, to be shared only with Yohji. He found he didn’t like the idea of the others looking at what was his. “Wear clothes,” he said. “You can’t go shopping naked.” 

"I don't know what the Schwarz assholes did with my clothes. All I have is my mission gear," the boy admitted. 

“Your mission pants and a shirt will do for the shopping,” Aya said. “I don’t know if anyone will go back to the summer camp for what we left behind. Doesn’t matter. We can buy new clothing.” 

"I didn't have anything important there anyway, Fujimiya-san," the boy replied. 

There was a knock at the door just as Aya was about to open it. It swung open and an arm that had to be attached to Farfarello shoved the boy's clothes into the room, the boots almost landing on Aya's toes. 

"Get dressed, it's almost time to go." 

“He needs to eat first.” Aya was not prepared to back down to the Irishman on this or anything else. “And so do I.” Turning back to Zeshin he said, “dress quickly. I’ll arrange breakfast for us.” 

"Just like every damned cat I've ever seen, always meowing for food. The rest of us are hungry too, that's why our first stop is for food," Farfarello replied, his tone full of irritation. 

“That’s fine then,” Aya said. He left Zeshin to dress in peace and headed back to see how Yohji was doing just in time to see Nagi fly the room, his cheeks burning. 

“I thought I told you not to tease him,” Aya said irritably to a grinning Yohji. 

Yohji's cheeks warmed, and the grin vanished. "I didn't say anything to him! It was this German pervert who just suggested an orgy!” 

It wasn't often that Aya had ever seen Yohji look embarrassed, but there it was, the blond's cheeks tinted pink. It was also very apparent that he had one arm around Schuldig. An arm that was hastily pulled back, and then returned when the emotional emanations around him instantly slammed into his unprotected mind. 

Aya grimaced slightly at that. “Sorry, I think I just pissed Farfarello off so he’s probably broadcasting my painful death. Zeshin had a good cry and is now dressing ready to eat. I didn’t see Ken or Kai.” 

He glanced at the untouched tray. “And if I have to spoon feed you I’m not going to be too happy.” 

Yohji sighed. "I was thinking about eating, but the thought didn't go very far," he admitted, his arm still around the telepath. He didn't look too happy about it either. 

“I’ll make sure he eats,” Schuldig said. “Nagi brought my breakfast too.” 

Aya exchanged a glance with Yohji, wondering how he felt about breakfast tete-a-tete with the telepath. 

Yohji smiled but Aya could tell the expression was strained. "Now that you're here, maybe I can let go of him and hold you instead." He winked at Aya, "You're more my type." 

“Okay,” Schuldig said easily, “I’ll go eat with the others and leave my breakfast for Abyssinian. How’s that?” 

Aya nodded his acceptance of the offer and moved onto the bed to take the telepath’s place. With Zeshin calmer and the drug wearing off he should be able to shield Yohji effectively. 

“Just extend your shields to cover him,” Schuldig said. “It’s easy enough if you’re touching.” 

Yohji smiled and made sure he and Aya were touching, his mouth closing over Aya's in a heated kiss. 

Aya kissed Yohji back until he was sure that Schuldig had left the room. “Now eat,” he said. “The food will help you get rid of the last of the drug. Then maybe you’ll stop feeling things so much.” 

He reached for his own bowl and started ladling food into his mouth. 

"Have you given any thought to the fact we're about to leave Japan with Schwarz?" Yohji asked as he picked up the food and stared at it. The stuff inside looked like it was moving and he closed his eyes knowing it had to have something to do with how fucked up he was. 

Before Aya even had a chance to answer there was a soft knock at the door. 

"Now what?" Yohji muttered. 

"Na, Aya, I've got something for you!" Ken called through the door. 

Aya sighed but called to Ken to come in. He had thought about the connotations of leaving Japan with Schwarz, but he couldn’t see what else they could do now. Rosenkreuz wanted them for their apparent talents and Kritiker would be itching to kill them if the organisation had survived Takatori’s death. 

Ken stuck his head in, his eyes were red-rimmed but his voice sounded almost normal, just a bit rough probably from crying. "I umm.. thought you'd like to have this," he said holding an orange mass of soft cashmere sweater out to Aya. "I don't know why, but I've been keeping it with me," he admitted softly. "This too," he tossed something to Yohji and the blond actually caught it. 

Balinese stared at what was in his hand. The lighter he'd bought almost a year ago on one of their 'family' vacations. 

"I forgot I had it under the seat of my bike, Yohji." 

"Thanks Ken," he murmured. 

“Yeah, thanks Ken,” Aya said, hugging the sweater his sister had knitted for him to his chest. “I know it’s not a fashion statement but I’m fond of it.” Then he went back into mother hen mode. “Did you get anything to eat yet?” 

When Ken nodded Aya turned his attention back to Yohji’s comment about leaving Japan. “I don’t think we have much choice, Yotan,” he said. “When old man Takatori gets Kritiker moving again they’re going to be after our hides. And we’ve already seen what Rosenkreuz are prepared to do to us.” 

Yohji nodded and forced some of the food into his mouth, choked it down. Everything tasted bad. Everything. He put the bowl aside. "Yeah, the shit will hit the fan. That's damned sure. And my guess is Crawford is trying to get us out before it does." 

Ken looked at his blond team mate and frowned. "You okay Yohji?" 

"I want to say yeah, but I think I'd be lying, and that isn't something we should do with one another anymore." He gave both Aya and Ken a long searching look, "We need to really sit down and talk about all this shit. Alone if we can, minus Schwarz." 

“I don’t think they’ll give us time to do that until we’re safely out of the country,” Aya said. “But I agree. Schwarz aren’t doing this for altruistic reasons. They want something from us. Well, if we can help them, they sure as hell can help us.” 

"Yeah," Yohji agreed. 

Ken crossed the room and looked at the food Yohji wouldn't eat. He picked up the bowl, sniffed it, "Smells okay. I bet this is like when you went on that three week drunk that one time," Ken stated. "You hated everything but pancakes. Remember Aya? Right after we took out Riot." 

At the mention of pancakes Yohji's expression brightened, "That does sound good." 

“Can we get him his pancakes?” Aya asked. “Nagi obviously thought he preferred Japanese food.” 

Ken nodded, "Sure. We can call down to the restaurant in the hotel and order them and they can have them ready for us when we get there." 

The door swung open and Crawford looked in at the trio of Weiss, "Already done. Get him fed and go shopping. We meet back at the hotel lobby at noon." 

He looked at Aya, glasses catching the light, "You are in charge, Schuldig has the credit card. Buy what you need to last for about a week, clothes shoes, underwear and lube. I'm sure you should remember to get that. You'll need it later." 

"Creepy fucking bastard," Ken muttered. 

"No shit," Yohji agreed. 

Aya put his empty bowl down on the tray. “I’ll go and round up Kai and Singapura,” he said. “The sooner we get moving the sooner we can get this over with.” 

He gave Yohji’s arm a quick squeeze. “Are you going to be okay while I do that?” 

Yohji took a deep breath and nodded. "Go on, get them, I'll be okay. I need to put more clothes on anyway." 

"And I need to round up all the dishes and get them back on the room service cart," Ken said as he grabbed Yohji's uneaten food. 

"Go on and eat it Ken," Yohji told him, knowing that was the only thing the ex-soccer player was waiting for. 

"Thanks Yohji," he said as he shovelled some of the food into his mouth and grabbed for Aya's empty bowl. 

Aya shook his head and left them to it. He left the room and found Kai waiting in the main room, looking very uncomfortable. Zeshin was just finishing some food at the table. 

“Are you two ready to go?” he asked. 

Kai nodded eagerly. “I’m ready,” he said. He glanced quickly around but Schwarz seemed to have vanished. “I want to talk to you all sometime.” 

“That’s okay,” Aya said. “We’d already realised that we need to talk. It’ll have to wait for now though. Are you nearly done, Zeshin?” 

Zeshin didn't answer, he just picked up the bowl he'd been eating out of and put it on the food service cart before walking over and kneeling in front of Aya with his head down. 

Farfarello stuck his head into the room from the hallway, a bright glitter of interest in his gold eye when he saw Zeshin kneeling at Aya's feet. 

"Very pretty," he commented with genuine admiration, feeding what he was seeing to Schuldig. *I wonder if all the kittens could be trained like that? Wouldn't it be nice having them kneeling at our feet, serving our every whim?* 

"Will you kitties get moving? Brad already left to take care of his shit and Schuldig is getting antsy wanting to get to the stores and get this crap over with." 

The only reaction that Farfarello got from Aya was a glare after which he ignored the psycho completely and turned his attention to Zeshin. “Get up,” he commanded. “You don’t need to kneel to me…in public.” 

Farfarello actually winked at him, a smirk twitching his lips, "Play later," he said and shut the door. 

"Yes, Fujimiya-san," the boy replied softly. 

Kai merely stared at Zeshin’s strange behaviour. He’d gone from trying to kill Aya to practically worshiping the man. 

Ken came out of the bedroom that Yohji and Aya had shared, the blond following, one hand on the brunet's shoulder. 

"This is going to be fun," he remarked as he dumped the bowls on the cart and turned to slip an arm around Yohji, helping to steady the taller man. 

"I'll be all right I just feel a bit dizzy." 

"You're blond Yotan, that's your natural state," Ken said in a lighter tone than any of them had heard recently. 

Kai smiled at Ken’s joke and was about to say something when Schuldig appeared, effectively shutting him up. “Everybody ready now?” he asked. 

Aya gave an abrupt nod and the six of them trouped out of the suite. 

"And you, Ken are a dumb jock," Yohji shot back. 

"Yeah, but there's hope for me, I could have Aya teach me to read!" 

With Ken and Yohji laughing softly, and even Zeshin managing a slight smile the group got into the elevator.


	11. Leaving on a Jet Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

The shopping trip had been successful and their easily recognised mission clothes, Aya’s orange sweater and several other items that each of them had bought were safely packed into new luggage. 

Schuldig had been restrained and actually helpful with opinions on things to buy during their trip. He had persuaded Kai that punk goth was not the way to go if he wanted to remain anonymous, although some clothes of that style had found their way into Bengal’s suitcase. Schuldig’s ‘present’ had turned out to be a pile of j-rock CD’s. Nothing that would piss Crawford off too much. 

Aya was stoic but nervous as they left the suite. He and the others might escape but Kritiker, and Rosenkreuz were bound to use his sister against him sooner or later. Although Aya-chan was innocent they would use her as a tool with which to get him back. He wasn’t sure which organisation he dreaded reaching her most. 

He wouldn’t burden the others with his thoughts though. Time enough to do something about his sister if she was actually threatened. He wondered if Crawford had seen any threat to her but would not ask. 

All questions about that were forestalled when they met with Crawford in the lobby of the hotel. There was a young woman at his side. One that Aya recognized immediately. 

Aya-chan. 

The American looked totally smug and far too pleased with himself as he pointed the girl in her brother's direction. 

Aya-chan threw herself into her startled brother’s arms. “Brother, oh Ran, where have you been?” 

Aya stood motionless with shock until he remembered to hug her in return. His eyes met Crawford’s over her shoulder, the expression in them angry. He’d wanted her to be kept out of the mess his life had become. Then Aya-chan surprised him once again. 

“I know, Ran. Sakura-chan told me everything. Did you really kill the monster that killed our parents?” 

All Aya could do was nod. Now she would be disgusted with him. Instead, she hugged him even closer. 

“Arigatou,” she whispered. “Had I been able to, I would have helped you.” 

Aya was now too stunned to even think straight and it took Yohji’s gentle touch to his shoulder to bring him back to the reality of leaving Japan. 

Crawford's smile was tight as he joined the siblings. "No loose ends," he told the red-head. "She already knew everything and what do you think would have happened to her?" 

To Schuldig he said, *Tell Abyssinian I was too late to keep Kritiker from taking Sakura and as it was I had to shoot four of the Takatori's thugs. Sakura, the little fool, decided to masquerade as Aya-chan again and when they find out she isn't Aya they are going to kill her, nor can we risk saving her. Not with Rosenkreuz about to come pay us a very unpleasant visit.* 

Yohji gave the girl a smile and found himself wondering how her presence was going to change things between Aya and himself. He had a sinking feeling that their already unsteady relationship was about come to an abrupt stop. 

"Let's get going," Crawford ordered. "You can talk on the plane." He took Aya-chan gently by the arm, "She's going to ride in the car with me," he told Abyssinian. "I can keep her safer than you can right now." 

Aya slowly let his sister go and nodded at Crawford in agreement. As the precog led Aya-chan away his hand reached out automatically for Yohji’s and squeezed it. 

Schuldig wandered across the lobby to join Aya and Yohji, motioning to Ken and Nagi to join him. Crawford, Farfarello, Kai, Zeshin and Aya-chan would go in the other car. 

They climbed into two large, chauffer-driven Mercedes and headed out of the centre of Sapporo and towards the airport for the internal flight to Osaka. It seemed strange to be leaving Japan from there instead of Tokyo, but Aya realised that they were not even remotely safe until they were in the air. 

Yohji leaned back and closed his eyes. He hated the idea of leaving Japan, and his life-- such as it was-- behind. He hated the thought of losing his car too. It had been one of the few real pleasures in his life, that Super Seven and it wasn't as if he'd ever come by the money to purchase another one. Not when there were no prospects of employment in their futures. 

He slipped his hand into Aya's and held on, hoping he wasn't going to lose what he had with the younger man. 

Ken watched Yohji, frowning at how pale the lanky blond appeared. He'd seen Yohji drunk, hung-over and shot, but he'd never looked so worn as he did now and it bothered him. 

Why had Omi-- Mamoru-- done the things he'd done? Telling Ken that the older Weiss were dead, pretending to be dead and not telling Aya and Yohji the two of them were alive? Nothing made any sense, until he brought in the idea that Mamoru had feared them for being 'freaks.' An idea that hurt because Ken couldn't think of the other two that way. He owed them so much, how was it possible to turn on them? He didn't understand it. But he hadn't understood Kase's betrayal either. 

Ken rubbed his face as if he could erase the last moments he'd spent with 'Persia' from his mind. That hadn't been his friend, his lover. That had been a total stranger, someone incapable of feeling for others. Incapable of love or kindness. That had been a Takatori, someone who'd betrayed everyone for his own ambitions and ideals, his own goals. 

Someone who'd died for betraying the people who'd trusted him. 

It was all so ironic. He'd killed Mamoru and joined forces with Schwarz. What did that say about them all? They'd fought Schwarz tooth and nail and now they'd just climbed in bed with them acting for all the world as if they were going to suddenly become friends. 

Ken couldn't trust the situation. He doubted the other two did either. 

Schwarz was doing what was best for Schwarz, and right now that just included them. He glanced at Nagi and wondered how much the telekinetic really knew. 

Schuldig sat quietly. He had passed on the news about Sakura to Abyssinian and had been a little surprised by his reaction. The Weiss redhead had looked a little sad but the emotion seemed mixed with relief. 

He had a peek into Siberian’s mind to see what he might know. On a certain level Ken’s thoughts amused him, on another they saddened him. When were Weiss going to realise that Schwarz had had no choices either? Even Crawford had been forced to follow orders. Didn’t Weiss realise that they were really on the same side, fugitives from powerful organisations that would stop at nothing to either kill them or break them and use their powers? No, judging by Hidaka’s thoughts they didn’t. 

He turned his attention to Yohji. Ah yes, obsessing over Abyssinian and his car. Well cars could be replaced, the powerful kitty could not. He almost smiled as he realised just how little Fujimiya knew about his gift. Yes, he could use it in small ways when the need arose, but he was capable of so much more than that. Still it was probably just as well, really. If the redhead had really used his power Rosenkreuz would have wanted him. He wondered if the powerful organisation even knew what Aya was. They had some suspicions about his sister but seemingly not him. 

The object of his thoughts was, as ever, unreadable as was Nagi, which would make for a boring journey if there wasn’t going to be an attack. 

Crawford's mental alert interrupted the German's musings. *Get ready for it. Rosenkruez agents are just up ahead. They have the road blocked.* The feeling coming from Crawford was full of amusement, like a cat that had just discovered a mouse rather than the tension the telepath was more used to feeling from the American in the last few months. 

*Schuldig, stick close to Kudoh and Fujimiya,* and this time Schuldig could feel actual elation, a sense of fierce joy coming from his leader as if the man were actually eager for the coming events. 

And knowing Crawford's moods, something big was about to happen. 

Farfarello's mind touched his, *Should I wonder why Brad is smiling the way he did the day the Elders died?* 

*Roadblock ahead, manned by Rosenkreuz. For some reason Brad’s thrilled to bits about it. Keep your wits about you, Farf. I don’t want to lose you.* 

In reply the Irishman gave his team-mate a derisive snort, *You know better than to worry about me. Take care of yourself. If it comes down to it, fuck the kittens and keep yourself safe. Understand?* 

Crawford's mind broke in over what Farfarello was telling his lover, *Be ready Schuldig. They have a telepath with them that you need to educate.* 

The cars stopped, the road ahead blocked off by a cluster of people and a trio of dark coloured sedans. 

Yohji opened his eyes, "Why are we stopped?" 

Ken was trying to see out the window, "Don't know." 

*Crawford, Crawford, why do you turn against your own kind?* The telepathic voice was warm yet sad. *You know that your home is with us.* 

*Shit! They’ve sent Gruber, The Voice! I’ve never gone up against him before but they say he’s the best.* Schuldig’s mental voice showed the telepath’s panic. 

The drivers of both cars abruptly slumped in their seats, eyes blank and staring, the breath shuddering from stilled lungs. 

Crawford's mental contact was soothing, like a hand laid gently on Schuldig’s arm as he got out of the car. *If he were the best I wouldn't have chosen you for my team, Schuldig. Keep that in mind.* The precog made no move that would lead to physical confrontations, which meant he didn't reach for the gun snuggled under his left arm. There were other preliminaries to the game before the gunfire started. 

*Our kind? I hardly think any of you are 'our kind' Gruber.* Crawford's mental voice was cool, emotionless as he replied to the Rosenkruez lackey. 

Farfarello got out of the car with him, standing at Crawford's elbow as they faced off against six of Rosenkreuz's brightest and best. 

Singapura opened the door on his side, pausing to whisper to Bengal, "We can't let anyone get near Abyssinian's sister." 

Ken opened the car door and got out, facing the weird looking group blocking their way. Six of them. "I think we've got some trouble on our proverbial doorstep," he told the others. 

Yohji frowned, "What should we do?" he asked Nagi as he pulled a pair of gloves on just in case he found a use for his harigane in the next few minutes. 

“It rather depends on who they’ve sent,” Nagi said, “but we can deal with them no matter who or what they are.” 

Aya climbed out of his side of the car, eyes narrowed and katana drawn although he wasn’t sure how much use it would be against these people. “You seem very confident, Naoe.” 

“Just follow Crawford’s lead. He saw this coming and knows the outcome.” 

Gruber, meanwhile had stepped to one side, and a woman stepped forward. Nagi sighed. “Don’t try to duck,” he said cryptically. 

“What do we need to…oh shit!” Aya watched in horror as fireballs left the woman’s hands to head straight towards them. Nagi raised his hands and the fireballs fell harmless to the ground. 

A man with pale violet hair stepped forward, the trees on both sides of the road starting to whip around, leaves skittering in front of a blast of wind that drove Crawford back a step and sent a tree branch flying toward him. The American sidestepped and the branch sailed harmlessly by. 

Another member of the Rosenkreuz team leapt forward, a long bladed knife in his hand. He was going for the boy beside the Mercedes as Gruber had instructed. He was to get the girl. 

They expected Berserker to abandon his place by Crawford, but he remained where he was, the boy taking on the Rosenkruez killer armed with no weapon they could see. 

"Bullshit," Ken growled and took a step forward, his hair rippling in no physical wind as flames started to lick across his fingers and his gaze became ruddy embers. Farfarello might not help Zeshin, but he wasn't going to let the kid go up against the older man alone. 

*Schuldig, show them what you can do with a little help from our supercharger,* Crawford instructed. 

Schuldig gathered his power and let his shields drop. He sent a mental wave of pure fury straight at Gruber who staggered then fell, bleeding from the ears. 

The remaining five agents rushed forward bent on avenging their fallen comrade only to come up against Nagi’s barrier. 

Zeshin leapt, taking one of the Rosen agents to the ground, a blade appearing as if by some type of magic. He struggled with the larger man, a feral grin baring not quite human teeth as they rolled across the pavement. 

"YAIYAIYAI!" ripped the air as Farfarello joined in the fight, singling out another of the agents at the same time Ken, moving like someone in a trance, tossed a small burst of seething red light at another of the Rosenkruez agents. 

The man ducked behind one of the sedans blocking the road and fire hit it instead, melting the steel and glass instantly, the ball not stopping until it impacted with the car's engine block, which oozed molten droplets to the ground. 

Yohji felt a shiver go through him and he grabbed for the car door to steady himself. He felt as if something were sucking the life out of him, as if he was bleeding out from a fatal wound and he gasped and wilted to the ground. 

“Yohji!” Aya was by his side in a second, lifting him and getting him into the car. As he touched him he felt a flare of energy. Leaving him in the car he turned to face the fight knowing exactly what he had to do. 

With a gesture he sent this strange energy towards the surviving agents and watched with a mixture of satisfaction and amazement as they disappeared as if they’d never been there. Only Gruber’s body and the agent that Zeshin and Farfarello had killed remained. 

Aya stared at his hand. “What the hell did I do?” 

“You used your power,” Schuldig told him. “You sent them either back or forward in time, I’m not sure which.” 

Ken turned to look at Aya, "What the hell?" 

"Let's get moving," Crawford commanded sharply. "We aren't out of Japan yet." 

*Schuldig, drive your car, I'll handle driving this one.* 

He handed something to Farfarello, "For Kudoh. You ride with them now." 

The Irishman frowned not liking the idea of their leader left with a pair of boys for protection. 

"Nagi, Hidaka, you two ride with me," the American said loudly as he pulled the dead man out of the driver's seat and dumped him to the ground. 

"Aya..." Yohji groaned from the back of the car. He felt cold and tired as if he'd been awake for days instead of only hours. 

Schuldig dumped the second dead driver and smiled at Farfarello as he joined him in the front. 

*Brad was right. The kittens are worth the trouble,* he said as he leaned back in the seat, a hand resting on his lover's thigh. *Have you noticed that Zeshin has the same colour hair and eyes that I do? I find that interesting, don't you?* 

Aya climbed in next to Yohji and hugged him close. “What’s happened to him?” he demanded as Schuldig started the car and drove through the block after Crawford. “What did you do to him?” 

“I borrowed his energy,” Schuldig said calmly, “so did you and Hidaka.” He shrugged. “Nagi may have tapped in too, but then he’s always been that strong so it’s hard to tell.” 

Yohji was shivering and pale, a few beads of sweat dampening his hairline. "I haven't felt this bad since I had that flu bug last year," the blonde complained softly to the man holding him. 

Farfarello turned in the seat and held out an energy bar through the window, "Crawford wants Kudoh to eat this. It will help him I guess." 

Aya took the bar and unwrapped it, holding it to Yohji’s lips. “Eat it,” he urged gently. As Yohji took a bite, Aya turned angry eyes on Farfarello. “I don’t care how interesting you find any of us,” he snapped, “you stay away from Yohji, Singapura and my sister.” 

The Irishman grinned, "I didn't say that out loud, Abyssinian. Stop eavesdropping on telepathic communications you weren't included in." 

He turned around in the seat, a smirk on his mouth. "Yes, this is going to be fun." 

Yohji sighed as he finished the energy bar off. It had tasted of chocolate and hadn't bothered him, even though normally he loathed anything that looked like something Ken might purchase. 

Crawford's mental voice filled Aya's mind, *Abyssinian, try and get Kudoh to sleep until we reach the airport. We'll need him again before the day is over and he needs the sleep. Also, in view of the fact your sister is now with us, I think a name change might be in order.* 

Aya didn’t answer Crawford or Farfarello. Instead his shields almost audibly clanged back into place. How could he possibly be what he was and yet be Ran again? He shook his head, pushing the subject to the back of his mind. He could worry about that once they were safely on the plane. 

“Get some sleep, Yohji,” he said. “Apparently they haven’t finished with you yet.” The thought made him angry but he knew that this was Yohji’s power and that he couldn’t help but use it. He’d found that out the hard way with his own power. 

The blond rested his head on the smaller man's shoulder and closed his eyes. He was asleep almost instantly. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken frowned at Nagi, "So Yohji's power is that he makes the rest of us stronger." He shook his head, "But it takes a lot out of him. Could it kill him?" 

“Without proper training, yes,” Nagi said softly. “Even with training, if we all drained him at the same time we could kill him. That’s why I didn’t use any of his power back there. You, Schuldig and Aya had to use him.” 

He half expected Abyssinian’s sister to say something like, but I’m Aya. She didn’t, however. What she did say was, “It might save confusion if you refer to my brother by his real name. He’s Ran.” 

Ken smiled at his team mate's sister, "You know, all this time he never told me his real name. I don't know if he told Yohji or not. I doubt it. He's always been Aya to us. It'll be weird calling him anything else." 

Crawford's voice came to them from the front of the car, "At the airport your job will be to make sure no one hurts her. We won't be able to use weapons, and any use of power has to be subtle. They are going to pretend to be police and try to arrest us." 

"Stupid," Zeshin stated. "There are real police at the airport, and they have to know we're with you now." 

“Not that stupid,” Nagi argued. “The real police will probably be told that the Kritiker agents are part of the Tokyo force. They won’t know any different and will probably help them.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if they want any of us alive.” 

Zeshin thought about that for a moment, then he nodded his understanding. "You're right. They're more likely to just shoot us." 

"That's their plan," Crawford stated. "And they may shoot at us. That's something that can, at this point, go either way depending on our actions, which is why I'm giving you advance warning. You have to be careful that Aya-chan isn't hurt." 

He glanced back to meet Zeshin's gaze for a moment, making sure the boy fully understood what he was saying. 

The boy gave a tight nod and glanced at Kai, "We're on it, right Bengal?" 

Kai nodded but was thinking, we are? This was the guy who’d tried to kill Yohji and Aya and was now being trusted with Aya’s sister? Kai was getting whiplash when it came to Singapura. He preferred to know where he stood with people. 

It was like Schwarz. Despite all he’d heard about them, they had been consistent in their treatment of him. Right now he found that comforting. He met Crawford’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “I’ll do the best I can,” he promised. 

"Good." 

Ken found himself watching Nagi, trying to decide on a few things. More to the point he was analyzing his feelings and the situation. Nagi had kissed him and left no doubt in Ken's rollercoaster thoughts that the kiss hadn't been something he'd been instructed to do. 

There'd been too much genuine feeling behind it and since Prodigy was as emotionally controlled as both Crawford and Aya... Ran… well then it stood to reason that any display was to be believed. 

But he couldn't help wondering why him? 

Nagi’s dark blue eyes turned to fasten on Ken, admiration and something deeper swimming in their depths. “It’ll be alright, Ken,” he said quietly. “Kritiker will be too busy fighting for their own existence to bother much about any of us once we clear the airport.” 

A hand reached out and gave Ken’s hand a quick squeeze that had nothing to do with telekinesis. 

"Just in case something happens to me, I um..." Blushing Ken leaned closer and placed a gentle kiss on Nagi's lips. 

Zeshin carefully looked out of the window so he didn't see the older assassin kissing the other boy. 

Nagi blushed becomingly but continued to hold Ken’s hand as if both their lives depended on it. 

For her part, Aya-chan was still a little confused. Crawford-san had explained that they needed to leave Japan if they were to survive but had not told her any further details. She knew that she would get nothing out of Ran. Even before their parents had been killed he had kept his own council. 

Although it should bother her to just drop her new life and go with her brother and his friends, somehow it didn’t. 

Zeshin gave Aya-chan a little smile. He wasn't used to being around any girls but his own sister, and they made him a bit nervous. He didn't know how to talk to them all that well, but she looked both lonely and sad. The way he himself felt. 

"Everything will be fine, really it will," he said wondering who he was trying to convince, the girl or himself. 

She smiled back at him. “Of course it will,” she said, “Ran knows what he’s doing.” 

The boy nodded remembering a brutal kiss. "Yes, I suppose he does," Zeshin replied softly. 

* * * * * * * 

The airport parking lot was trouble free, which surprised Aya as it was the perfect place for an ambush. Check-in was also without incident and it wasn’t until they set foot in the passenger lounge that the trouble began. 

“Halt!” 

Well, Birman’s involvement came as no surprise. He took in the details of all the other gun-toting agents and found he knew none of them. He was relieved to find neither Crashers nor Manx involved in this. There was nobody here that he cared about. 

Zeshin immediately placed himself between his former employers and Aya-chan while Ken stepped closer to Abyssinian. 

Yohji gave the woman a lazy smile, "Come to say goodbye?" 

Crawford regarded the woman with a faint smirk quirking one side of his mouth. "You're quite ambitious aren't you, Birman?" His hard gaze swept across the group of agents. "But don't you think you're a bit understaffed for something like this?" 

Berserker grinned and set his carry on bag down, slipping an arm around Schuldig's waist. "Aren't they cute?" he asked snidely. "All dressed up to play a game of killers and victims." 

Schuldig smirked. “They’ll make lovely corpses,” he agreed. 

Kai stepped up to help Zeshin protect Aya-chan, his expression bleak. He never had wanted to work for these assholes anyway. 

Nagi stood quietly, gathering his power to shield them all if it became necessary. He felt the shield lock into place and awaited Kritiker’s next move. 

Aya stared coldly at Birman. “Come to retrieve your dogs or simply to put them down?” he asked bitterly. 

The woman motioned to her men and took a step forward. "There are two ways this can be done. You can come along peacefully and go back to your jobs, or we can terminate your employment." 

Crawford's smirk didn't waver, "I believe you will find they've taken employment elsewhere." 

Birman's eyes narrowed, "With you?" 

"Something like that, yes," the American agreed. He glanced at his watch, "And I'm afraid that we don't really have time for chit chat, so if you'll excuse us..." the man took a bold step forward. 

Guns were fired at them almost immediately, causing other passengers in the area to scream and duck for cover. The bullets bounced harmlessly off Nagi’s shield. 

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Schuldig sneered. 

At that moment there was a slight commotion at the entrance and another group appeared, this time headed by Manx and Queen. 

“This operation has been terminated,” Manx stated firmly. “You are to let these people go, Birman.” 

"Manx, Queen! You have no authority here, either of you. These orders come directly from Persia. I'm to bring our employees back for new assignments," she argued. "If you don't believe me, call him yourself." But she was watching the other women, frowning at the presence of Crashers. "They shouldn't be here either," she added in anger. 

"You can't do this, Birman," Queen informed her gently. "Look at them. This is Schwarz. All you'll accomplish is getting people killed. People who we need." 

"We need Weiss!" Birman snapped. 

"Yes," Queen agreed, "we do. But they aren't Weiss anymore. And we are also in a very public place. Think about that." 

"Let's go," Crawford said to his team. He felt a faint glow of warm pride at the thought. Not only Schwarz but Weiss were his now. His. And no one tried to take what belonged to him. No one. 

"You can all sort this out on your own. We have a plane to catch," he stated as he took another step forward, menacing Birman. "Unless you want a public bloodbath you might want to get out of our way." 

“Do as he says, Birman,” Manx ordered. “They are of far more use to the world alive than dead. Kritiker needs to return to its original concept without the interference of political ambitions.” 

Aya snorted mockingly at that. He knew the redheaded woman meant well but Kritiker would always be taken over by politics. It was the very nature of the organisation. He wondered if Birman would have the sense to stand down and eyed her suspiciously. He’d never forgotten nor forgiven being called her dog. 

"You've never understood the true purpose of Kritiker, Manx. That's been your problem, you were blinded by your master and never stopped to look at what we really are and what we really do," Birman replied. 

Crawford was face to face with the woman now, the tall American looking down at her in more ways than the obvious, "Move or find out how many ways your men can die," he warned, his tone gentle but chilly. 

Schwarz knew that tone of voice. They'd heard the man use it often enough. It meant people were going to die. 

And the people who did the dying were never Schwarz. 

“If we are to talk of blindness, Birman, what about yours when you chose Takatori over Kritiker. Saijou is NOT Persia, nor will he ever be. Now move!” 

The other agents with Birman looked a little uncomfortable and started lowering their weapons. Nagi kept his shield firmly in place, however. The situation was far too volatile to drop it yet. 

Both Weiss and Schwartz stepped towards the gate, prepared to go through Birman if necessary. 

Birman met Crawford's stare, "This isn't over. I promise you that." 

Brad gave her a mocking smile, "Of course not. Not for us at least." And on that final enigmatic reply he pushed past her and her agents. 

Aya might not trust Crawford but he was beginning to have a grudging respect for the man and his team. So he moved forward with the others and through the gate to the plane and the first stirrings of hope. 

Crawford regarded Schuldig, the smirk almost becoming an ever present expression on the American's lips. *You've done well, Schuldig. I think they are beginning to trust us.* 

He opened the carry-on that Farfarello had brought on the plane and passed another of the chocolate flavoured energy bars to the German. *Go play nice with Kudoh and give him this. Remember, every action we take around them must be taken with the idea of gaining their cooperation. Without it we'll likely die at the hands of Rosenkruez, and that is not a fate I'll willingly accept.* 

Schuldig waited until the plane had taken off before crossing the aisle to hand the energy bar to Yohji. “Vater says you’re to eat this.” He was careful not to actually touch Yohji as Abyssinian was glaring at him for his close proximity. He didn’t think there was a great deal of trust in that corner just yet. 

The blond assassin took the energy bar and nodded his thanks to Crawford across the aisle before he unwrapped it. He was hungry for once, naturally when there wouldn't be any food in sight for the first few hours of the flight. 

Aya turned his attention to Crawford, feeling it was time for some answers. “We probably owe you our lives,” he said grudgingly, “and the safety of my sister. What I want to know is what exactly do you expect from us in return. I know you didn’t do any of this out of the kindness of your heart.” 

"Co-operation," Crawford replied. "I want my team to survive, and that will take at least you and Kudoh to accomplish. The others," he gave the ex-Weiss a hard smile, "are just frosting on the cake." 

“I’ll warn you now, Crawford, I’m growing tired of being used. I am prepared to help you fight against Rosenkreuz, having seen their methods, but only on an equal footing. I am not prepared to be anyone’s lackey ever again. If I think you are manipulating any of us, including my sister, for your own ends, I’ll walk away.” 

Kai had heard enough about Abyssinian to know that he was quite capable of walking away. He’d done it to Kritiker on at least three occasions. It showed something else too. He had enough trust in Crawford not to threaten to kill him. 

Crawford's smile didn't waver in the least, "Yes I'm using you. I'm telling you this flat out. Surprised?" The American shook his head, "I'm being honest with you. Totally honest. If I didn't need you and Kudoh you wouldn't be here. Not you, not him, and certainly not the rest of the baggage you've brought along." 

He glanced at Schuldig, "But the point of fact is that I need you or we die. All of us. Schwarz. Weiss. Your sister. All of us. That's the blunt and brutal truth and nothing I see changes about that until we are all together. Us and the pair of you. Adding them," he gestured to Aya-chan, Ken, Zeshin and Kai, "Actually improves our odds marginally. And against Rosenkruez any edge is worth having." 

Aya sat back in his seat, satisfied for now. He had never cared much about his own life, but he couldn’t let Yohji, Aya-chan or even Ken and the two new Weiss die if he could help to save them. “Continue to be honest and forthcoming and I’m prepared to fight by your side,” he said, “double cross us and you’ll be the first to die.” 

At those words Crawford's smile only widened. "That's what I've always liked about you, Fujimiya. You keep your promises." 

Laughing softly he pulled a financial magazine out of the bag and passed the small duffle to Farfarello who hauled out a ragged copy of Swiss Family Robinson. "I like this book. It's giving me ideas." 

Aya relaxed then and closed his eyes, not wanting to see his sister’s horrified gaze. They flew open again when Aya-chan added, “and if he doesn’t kill you, I will. I haven’t forgotten that you worked for the bastard who killed our parents.” He gazed across at her in awe but she was watching Crawford, her dark-blue gaze determined. 

Crawford glanced up from his reading, "Don't confuse us with him. You will recall," he said looking at Aya, "that when it came time for your vengeance we stepped aside and did nothing to assist him. Had it been up to any of us," he motioned to the rest of Schwarz, "he wouldn't have lived as long as he did." 

*I'd have gleefully killed him the day he struck you with that golf club,* he told the telepath silently. 

Which brought his mind to another point he wanted to clarify, "And before you bring up the incident with his beloved daughter Ouka..." he began, "she died at my orders to Schuldig and Farfarello. Think of what she would have become with her father's power plus that of her cousin and lover Mamoru at her disposal had she still lived once he became Persia." 

Aya actually shuddered at that thought. He hadn’t cared at all when Omi’s sister, cousin, whatever she was had died. Omi’s suffering had bothered him, but that was over now, also. Omi had died at the Ani Museum. 

“I don’t care about that,” he said. “All I care about is on this plane. As long as they remain safe, I’ll play along.” 

Brad nodded. He already knew this, but it was always good to have confirmation of his visions. Even now he found that seeing his visions validated by time was pleasing. It was one of the few pleasures he had to enjoy. 

“I have one last question. Why am I so important? I can see Yohji’s use as he enhances your powers, but my power seems minimal.” 

"Do you always look at a book and decide from the cover if you want to purchase it?" the American asked. There was an odd glitter in his gaze as he added, "Fortunately for you I like to look below the surface." He pushed his glasses up and asked, "Tell me what you think your power is, Aya." 

Aya frowned slightly as he thought about it. “I assumed I had a very minor version of your power which kicks in when I fight. I seem to be able to move a little faster than normal when in trouble, like the time you and Farfarello attacked me.” 

"That is a mere side-effect of your real power," the dark-haired man replied. "You are, in fact, a chronokinetic. Able to affect time. Or you will be once you're properly trained." He smirked, "What do you think happened to those Rosenkruez agents? You sent them elsewhen. And I have plans for you, Fujimiya. Your power can keep us safe from Rosenkruez once and for all time." There was a peculiar light in the man's eyes as he said the words 'all time.' 

Aya was beginning to think he’d got lost in the pages of some weird science fiction novel. He was about to open his mouth to argue with Crawford when Nagi spoke up. “It’s true, Aya,” he said. “You stepped through time to breach my shield that time when I contained Ken and Yohji.” 

Aya thought about the Rosenkreuz agents that had vanished. “I thought I manipulated time and space the way you do,” he told Crawford, “I didn’t realise it was physical. Where and when did I send those Rosenkreuz agents?” 

Brad chuckled, "I have no clue, but I hope it was somewhere entertaining." 

Farfarello snickered, "Maybe somewhere a little Jurassic Park and they are running from a T-Rex right now." The thought amused him and he sat there giggling softly, his mind playing out the images of the agents running from a dinosaur in almost cinematic quality for his telepathic lover. 

Schuldig sniggered and put an arm round Farfarello. *Go on, let the poor beast eat them. He looks hungry enough.* 

Yohji finished the energy bar and shoved the wrapper into the little bag provided. "So Aya warps time and I'm a walking battery?" He frowned, "Pretty apparent what he has planned don't you think?" 

“It’s not a bad idea, Yohji,” Aya said slowly, “if I can do it. It would mean none of us ever having to run and hide again, never having to kill to order again. I can see the possibilities.” 

He glanced at Crawford. “When in time did you want me to take us?” 

The blond thought about it. If they chose carefully and if they went backward they could elude pursuit completely by being in a time before Rosenkruez existed. 

Then another thought crossed his mind and he turned to stare at Crawford who had started reading his magazine. Voice lowered to a bare whisper he leaned closer to Aya, "Here's a wild thought. What if your control of time is similar to whatever kept Aya-chan from aging. I mean..." he was frowning. "What if that makes you like she was and you don't get older?" 

Aya stared at Yohji as if he’d gone mad. “Don’t be ridiculous, Kudoh,” he said, “I’m aging just the same as you are.” 

"I know. But she stopped aging while she was in a coma. Think about it. There was nothing telling her body to get older so her power was in effect." 

He glanced at Crawford and saw the smirk on the man's face. "And from the look on the all knowing and all seeing Oz over there, I'd say I'm right." He actually smiled slightly, "And my guess is you can share it too. Am I right?" 

"Good-looking and brains. That's what I like in my men," Crawford replied, his words conveying genuine amusement. "You've got great taste in lovers, Fujimiya. Once we get him to stay sober and stop smoking he'll be a real prize." 

Yohji snorted and gave the American a sour look, but thought better of saying anything that might antagonize their benefactor, such as Crawford was all things taken into consideration. What he did say was, "Well at least he's honest-- more or less-- about what we are to him." 

Aya said nothing, still not prepared to believe that he or his sister could keep them all young. Immortality didn’t interest him in the least, especially if it was to be spent like the last few years of his life had been spent. Besides it still felt like a bad joke to consider his own power. 

He closed his eyes and leaned against Yohji, trying to think his way through the whole goddamned mess. Not only did he have this power to deal with but he also had his sister in the hands of Schwarz. Something he’d been fighting to keep her out of. And then there was Zeshin. He was still angry at the boy and yet something in him responded to the boy’s submissiveness. 

He sighed quietly. “It’s such a mess,” he muttered. 

Yohji settled more comfortably, slipping an arm around his lover and kissing the top of his head, "We'll sort it out in Bangkok. Why don't you try and get some sleep? That's what I plan on doing." 

Zeshin was seated beside Aya's sister, the boy doing his best to make Abyssinian happy by appointing himself her personal valet. He was rummaging through the stuffed shoulder bag he'd brought on the plane running down the list of snacks he'd stuffed into it. "Let's see, I've got fruity chews, chocolate and strawberry pocky, bubble gum, candy coated chocobites, three bottles of cola, two bottles of fruit punch, one bottle of cocoa drink, and two iced coffee things and some chips." 

Ken peered into the carry on, "What, no cookies?" 

Zeshin frowned, "Those are in the other bag in the compartment up there," he said pointing above his head at the luggage bin. 

"Didn't you bring any fruit, anything that wasn't doused with sugar?" 

"No," the boy replied. "You should have thought of that yourself, Ken-kun." 

Aya-chan chuckled and requested a bottle of cola and some chips. 

Kai was on his feet by this time and handed down the other bag to Ken. “Cookies are in that one,” he said, “plus some fresh fruit.” 

Ken dug out an apple and grabbed one of the fruit punch drinks as Zeshin handed Aya-chan the requested food and soda. 

"Kai, did you get any of those dried fruit chips? I forgot to add them to my basket when we were at the store," Zeshin asked the other boy. 

Ken smiled at Nagi, "You want anything from the travelling convenience store before I sit back down?" 

Nagi smiled shyly at Ken and the two youngest ex-Weiss. “Some cookies and the cocoa drink would be good please. Unless someone else wants the cocoa.” 

Kai selected a banana, one of the cookies and a bottle of cola before throwing a pack of dried fruit mix at Zeshin and sitting back down. 

Zeshin caught the packet of dried fruit and offered it to Aya-chan, "Do you want some?" 

The girl shook her head with a murmured ‘no thanks, I’m fine.’ 

Ken dug out another package of cookies and retrieved the drink for Nagi from the pale-haired boy before taking his seat beside Prodigy. He blushed slightly and said, "You can have them for a kiss." 

Nagi also blushed but leaned forward and kissed Ken very willingly, his arm going round the athlete’s neck and his lips slightly parted in welcome. 

The brunet's arms went around Nagi, holding him tightly, but not so tightly that he might hurt the slender telekinetic. 

*Looks like the Nagling has a pet,* Farfarello remarked as he offered Schuldig some beef jerky. 

*Or Siberian does,* Schuldig retorted as he grimaced at the beef jerky. He was saved by Kai passing him a packet of cookies. 

*Possibly,* the Irishman replied as he stuffed the jerky into his own mouth. *I honestly can't see the boy on top, but he is Crawford's protégé so who can tell for sure?* 

*Nagi is the type to top from the bottom anyway,* Schuldig said with a mental shrug. *You know I’m actually beginning to like this particular batch of kitties. The three best from Weiss and two definite assets thrown in for good measure, not to mention the very talented sister.* 

*I'm still not sure about it. We'll see how much arguing there is before I decide. I just can't see them accepting orders from Brad. Not the way we do.* 

*Perhaps Brad needs to find another way of doing things with them. Especially Abyssinian and Balinese. Siberian will follow Nagi, I think, whereas the others will follow Abyssinian’s lead. Vater needs to get the man on side rather than give him orders. He doesn’t take authority well at the best of times.* 

*That's putting it mildly. Abyssinian's walked out on Kritiker, so he will walk out on us if Brad doesn't handle him just right. Or course he's got his power to help him, but,* Farfarello shrugged, *things don't always go exactly the way he thinks they will either.* 

*As far as Nagi and Ken go, you might be right. Siberian sure seems to have latched on to Prodigy. I wonder why? Maybe he's turned on by younger boys but I'm worried he might be on the rebound. If he hurts Nagi, I'll turn him into hash.* 

*He’s been hurt too badly himself to want to hurt Nagi. Besides, I can’t see the kid letting him get away. He’s a determined little bastard when he wants to be. No, Farf, we need to build up real trust. Weiss have been betrayed too many times.* 

The Irishman nodded. *And unlike us, they didn't expect the betrayal. That's the sad thing really. All that killing they did was based on lies. Not that I'd ever tell them they were killing for people no better than those they killed. It would be more than I think they can handle, though,* he took a drink of the spring water he had, *I'd be willing to bet Kudoh and Fujimiya figured it out, or will soon.* 

He offered the bottle to Schuldig and added, *I think Brad's disappointed that he won't have Abyssinian for himself.* His eye narrowed, *Which reminds me. Am I imagining things or is our fearless leader having chest pains?* 

Schuldig took the bottle and a long gulp of its contents. *He’s exhausted himself trying to free us and the fight is not over yet. I’m very concerned about him, Farf. I think he has weakened his heart.* 

*That's what worries me too. Without Brad we're screwed. I know it, you know it and I'd imagine the kittens know it too.* 

He took the bottle back from Schuldig and put the cap back on. *We can't let him kill himself. For one, I don't think Nagi could handle the grief, and let's face it, he's the one holding this mess together.* 

*So we do our best to put the kitties at their ease. I think Balinese has also picked up that all is not well with Vater. If he decides to make things worse…* Schuldig sighed audibly. *We really do need them on side, Farf. We need to make them feel that they’re part of this instead of just commodities for us to use.* 

*I know, and I've been trying to find a way to make them see that. But damned if I can come up with anything that will seem genuine.* 

He sighed and glanced out of the plane's window, *I hope we can relax once we get to Bangkok. At least we'll be out of Kritiker's reach there, which is something.* 

*I want to try and make things as easy for Brad as we can because he needs to rest. We lose him, and we're all dead.* 

Schuldig didn’t reply to that. There was nothing he could say or think that would change that particular truth. They all needed some rest, Brad most of all, but persuading the precog to take time out would be one of the hardest jobs any of them had to face.


	12. One Night in Bangkok

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Brad sat his suitcase down on the dresser and lay down on the bed. He was tired and he didn't want to be, nor did he want to admit how exhausted he felt to anyone. 

He stared at the ceiling, knowing he should look ahead now that they'd arrived, but he just didn't have the energy to try. 

Kudoh could give him what he needed, but the blond wasn't used to the strain, and he wasn't in good shape to start with. 

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind, willing himself into the state of mind that let him see more than a few moments ahead. 

A twinge of pain shot down his arm, his breath hissing between his teeth. 

No getting around it then. He had to rest and trust that Rosenkruez hadn't noticed them yet. 

Kai knocked tentatively at Brad’s door. Aya was putting a meal together with the groceries that had been left for them and he wanted to know if Crawford wanted to eat. Kai was wondering why he had to be the errand boy. Crawford made him nervous for reasons he couldn’t quite work out. 

Sitting up Brad said, "Come in Kai." 

Kai poked his head round the door. “Aya wants to know if you want some food. He’s cooking some sort of Thai curry.” 

"No, thank you. I think I'm going to go to bed." 

Kai took a deep breath. The man looked really ill. “Are you okay?” And even if Crawford wasn’t okay, why did it bother him so much? 

"I'll be fine. " he replied. It was true in a way. When he was dead he'd have all the time he needed to rest. He just needed to hang on long enough to make sure the rest of Schwarz would be safe with Aya. 

It would take some time for his team to adjust, but once they were accustomed to listening to Fujimiya rather than him, it would all be just fine. 

Kai frowned. Yohji had said something about him letting them sleep well. Was that why Schwarz had let him tag along? No harm in asking. 

“Yohji says I help you to sleep. Is that true?” 

"What do you mean?" he was too tired for mindless chatting, but the boy didn't seem inclined to leave. 

“He said that the night after Ken and Nagi brought me to you, everyone slept better and he thought it had something to do with me. Then Schuldig said he’d had a silent sleep, whatever that means but that he’d thought it was down to Yohji.” 

Crawford eyed the boy thoughtfully. He remembered the conversation. It was something he'd look into after he had a little sleep. But it gave him an idea. "I want you to take a nap with me. I want to test a theory." 

“Um, okay. Can I just tell Aya that I’ll eat later first? I’ll come straight back after I do that.” He was tired but the thought of napping with Crawford was daunting. Still, if it would help the man to get some rest… 

"Eat. I'll be here," Brad replied as he removed his suit coat. Oddly he felt more naked without the coat than he had without his ever present gun. He'd left his pistol in a trash bin in Japan. 

They'd all need firearms now that they were in Bangkok. The arrangements were already made, he simply needed to make the pick up at the scheduled time. Just something else that would require his attention when he woke up. 

Kai nodded and went back to the kitchen. “Er…Crawford wants me to take a nap with him,” he said reddening up as Aya turned to stare at him, “so could you keep my portion for when I wake up?” 

Aya made no comment about the nap and simply said, “I’ll leave a plate in the fridge. You’ll be able to put it in the microwave.” 

“Thank you,” Kai said, immensely relieved that nobody else had been in the room. 

Crawford was unbuttoning his shirt when Kai came in, but he paid no attention to the boy, simply continuing to undress as if he was alone in the room. 

Kai’s face went even redder but he did strip off his tee shirt and place it on a chair. He was shaking with nerves by the time he’d managed that. 

Crawford neatly hung his shirt up on the hanger attached to the rack where he'd already hung his suit coat and tie. 

"I’m not going to bite you," he told the boy, voice gone soft and non-threatening. It was the same way he'd spoken to Nagi the day he'd found him. 

Kai swallowed hard. This was a really dumb way for an ex-yakuza to act but Crawford’s air of calm authority made him feel like a gawky schoolboy. The man both attracted and terrified him. 

“I…I know,” he managed to say. 

Crawford slipped his trousers off leaving him in his black silk boxers. He frowned at the wrinkles in his pants that had been created by their long plane flight. 

"I'm going to give you a few assignments, things that will be your responsibility. Do you think you can handle being in charge of a few things for me?" 

Kai blinked. Up to date, Weiss hadn’t had a lot of use for him except to kill Goemon at the camp. If he could be of use to Crawford he might start feeling better about himself. 

“I’m a pretty good gopher,” he said, pulling himself together finally. “Anything else you need, well I’m a fast learner.” 

"I need a reliable personal assistant. Or, as you put it, a gopher." 

He pulled the covers on the bed back and slipped into bed with an audible sigh. "Do you think you can handle assisting me?" 

Kai nodded. “I can handle that, yes,” he said. “Er, did you want me to get in the bed with you?” 

"Yes. Unless you're afraid of me. You aren't are you?" 

He removed his glasses and set them on the bedside table. 

“Um…no, I guess not. I’ve just never got into bed with a man before.” 

"Ah, you get into bed with girls then," Brad remarked as he turned onto his side to face the boy. He actually managed a slight smile, "I promise to keep my hands to myself." 

*Schuldig, how are things going? Can I get some sleep without anyone stabbing someone else or setting fire to the living area?* 

*All quiet on the living room front, Vater. We’re all waiting for Fujimiya to finish cooking. Whatever it is smells good. Get some rest.* 

“I haven’t been to bed with any girls either,” Kai admitted sheepishly. “I can fight and kill easily enough but relationships freak me out a bit.” 

The American chuckled, "Well relationships aren't a high priority skill among Rosenkruez trainees, so don't expect much from Schwarz. You know the rest of your Weiss compatriots better than I do, so you're a better judge of their skills than I am." 

He closed his eyes, "Let's get some rest." 

To Schuldig he said, *If you don't see me in five hours, come get me. We need to get ourselves in order to face Rosenkreuz as soon as we can. They won't wait while we adjust to life with Weiss. And we need to give our kittens some rudimentary training before Aya or Yohji do something dangerous.* 

Kai slipped out of his jeans and slid under the covers next to Crawford, careful not to actually touch him. Surprisingly he was asleep within seconds. 

*Yohji has already approached me. Aya was the one who sent him so I think they’re keen to get some control over what they do. The silence around Kudoh is blissful. You want me to arrange firearms?* 

*Excellent. I expected cooperation but the more trust we can build the easier things will be for everyone.* He shoved the pillow under his head around and closed his eyes. 

*Firearms are arranged. Pickup is tonight after I wake up. Make sure I have coffee and a meal ready when I get up please.* 

*Already sorted, Vater. Sleep well.* 

Schuldig cut the link and leaned back against Farfarello. He was bone tired but wouldn’t sleep until the rest were settled or Brad was awake again, whichever came sooner. Until they were sure of Weiss’s loyalty he would keep watch. 

Yohji, freshly showered and smelling of faintly floral shampoo, dropped onto the couch. He was in his pyjamas, dark green satin that shimmered slightly in the dim lights. 

"Where's your fearless leader?" 

“Getting some much needed sleep. How are you feeling? You used a lot of energy earlier.” 

Yohji shrugged. "I'm tired, but I think that nap on the plane and those energy bars helped." 

He reached for the TV remote then wondered if he should bother. Chances were everything would be in Thai or English. He could speak English well enough, but Thai wasn't something he knew. 

Opting for conversation he asked, "Any clue what Fearless Leader's plans are?" 

Schuldig let the Fearless Leader reference go. It was irking him but that was Yohji’s intention and he wasn’t prepared to take the bait. “What they always are,” he said, “to keep us all safe. Which is more than could ever be said for your ex masters.” 

"And I suppose Rosenkruez had your best interests in mind? Or Esset?" 

He put his feet up on the coffee table and wiggled on the couch to get comfortable, "Weiss tried to be a family, we really did. But that little Takatori bastard destroyed it." 

He shook his head, "No, that's not true. He just separated us, but Ken, Aya and I are still a family." 

“And you think we’re not? Nagi was living on the streets before Brad found him and Farf and I couldn’t really function on our own. As for our masters, we did try to escape them, at least.” 

Schuldig pulled one of Farfarello’s arms around him. “I know how you see us, Kudoh, but you’re wrong. Do you know where Farf’s name came from? How well read he is? No! You just see him as a madman.” 

"Dante's Inferno," Yohji replied. "I'm not a slouch when it comes to reading, despite what you might think. Aya is even more well read than I am, which I freely admit. 

"And yes, I do think of him as a madman. Forgive me if I'm misinformed, but I remember him giving a few priests and nuns acid baths." 

“He has his reasons,” Schuldig snapped. “That ‘Sister’ Ruth that Ken-ken was so eager to rescue was a Rosenkreuz agent. She trained as a nun simply to acquire Farf. It didn’t matter what her lies did to the mind of a religious child.” 

“You have no idea, Kudoh. You’re so wrapped up in your own suffering that you fail to see that others might have suffered too. I’ll tell you something. We don’t lie to each other or ourselves the way you guys do.” 

"You presume to know so much about us," Yohji got up from the couch, "but you don't know shit." 

He stalked out into the kitchen, putting an end to their conversation. 

Ken, who'd just come into the living area watched him go with an unhappy look on his face. "This is never going to work," he muttered and went back into the room he was sharing with Nagi because he didn't want to be involved in any drama between the pair of Schwarz and Yohji. 

“Damn! I made a real pig’s ear of that, didn’t I?” Schuldig said bitterly. “But Kudoh has this habit of getting right up my nose.” 

"He wasn't getting up your nose, he was trying to make conversation. You're trying to read things into the situation that aren't there." 

Aya turned as Yohji stormed into the kitchen. “What’s wrong?” he demanded. 

"Nothing." He peered into the small refrigerator, "No beer?" 

“No,” Aya said and turned back to his cooking. He checked the rice and gave the curry a final stir. “The food’s nearly ready and that’s a lot better for you than alcohol. Can you let the others know that the meal is ready, please?” 

"Yeah," Yohji replied. He walked out of the kitchen, "Food's done," he told the pair on the couch then tapped on Ken's door. "Food!" 

He vanished into the room he was sharing with Aya, closing the door behind him. 

Aya served up the meal, keeping portions aside for Crawford and Kai. As the others filed into the kitchen he glanced up and frowned at Yohji’s absence. Putting his own portion to one side he picked up Yohji’s plate and headed for the bedroom. 

He opened the door and walked in, using his foot to shut it behind him. Placing Yohji’s food on the table by the window, he turned to give his lover an arctic stare. “What’s bugging you?” 

The blond took off his pyjama top, "Being caged up here with Schwarz." 

He pulled on a black crop top and reached for a pair of black jeans from his suitcase. "I'm going to go wander around. I've got my credit card." 

Aya frowned. “What you really mean is you’re going out to get drunk,” he said angrily. “You’re not a fool, Yohji, so why are you acting like one? Schwarz have done us no harm, in fact they’ve gone out of their way to help us. I know it’s not been done out of love but for now we need them as much as they need us.” 

"I'm not going to get drunk. I don't trust them enough to do that." He pulled off his pyjama bottoms and sat down on the bed, yanking on the jeans. "I just need some time away from them before I do something stupid and hit the smirking German." 

“Will you eat first, at least? You need to make up your energy.” 

"Yeah," Yohji replied as he rummaged under the bed for his boots. "But I'm staying in here to do it." 

“Okay,” Aya said. “Do you mind if I join you? Then, perhaps, we could explore the area together. What do you think?” 

Yohji looked up at his lover, "Be honest with me, please. You're coming along to make sure I don't go off drinking. Don't pretend you're interested in exploring because we both know better." 

“I just thought we could spend some time together,” Aya said. “Oh never mind. Just forget it. I’ll go eat with the others.” He turned away and opened the door. 

Yohji got up off the bed and had his arms around Aya before he could get out of the door. He shoved the door closed with his foot and locked his lips over the younger man's mouth. 

Aya returned the kiss for a moment before disentangling himself. “My food is getting cold,” he said a little breathlessly, “and so is yours. I’ll be back in just a minute.” 

He opened the door again and returned to the kitchen. Without even acknowledging the others present, he picked up his plate and went back to the bedroom. 

When Aya got back Yohji was sitting at the little table face close to the plate, taking a deep breath of the fragrant steam. "It smells good," he told his lover as he picked up the chopsticks. 

“I hope it’s okay,” Aya said, “I’ve never tried Thai cooking before.” He sat down next to Yohji and picked up his own chopsticks. “Oh well, here goes.” He took a tentative mouthful. 

Yohji took a bite also and started chewing. "Not sure it's exactly Thai, but it's not bad. And it certainly beats instant ramen." 

Jade eyes gave a quick a glance to the door, "I tried to have a conversation with Schuldig, but he got so defensive about things." 

“Thank you so much,” Aya said ironically before becoming serious again. “We’re all defensive right now, Yohji. And I know it’s hard for any of us to cut the others some slack. We’ve been on opposite sides for so long. Give it time.” 

He took another mouthful of food. “As a matter of interest, what did he get defensive about?” The idea of the German being defensive at all was intriguing. 

"Crawford and Farfarello. His owner and his lover. Our slightly off kilter German is very loyal to Fearless Leader and his Dante inspired pseudo demon." He ate more of the food, grateful that things were tasting better. 

"Remember how you made this. I really like it." 

“Well, I suppose if anyone attacked you, I’d get defensive,” Aya said thoughtfully. “I think we forget that they formed links just as we did.” He grinned suddenly. 

“I know exactly how I made it and thank you.” 

Yohji regarded his lover and the smile he was seeing. After so long seeing nothing but the faintest indication of a smile from the red-head seeing an actual smile, much less a grin was wonderful. He matched the smile with a grin of his own. 

"I guess maybe they do have feelings for one another," he admitted. "But it's hard for me to think of them as human. Not because of their powers, but because they were the monsters in our dreams for so long." 

Aya nodded. Yohji had put his own feelings perfectly and yet he knew they had to stick with Schwarz if they were going to survive. Oddly enough he found that he wanted to survive. 

He finished his meal and stood up. “You still want to go for that walk?” he asked. “I’ll even let you smoke.” 

Yohji finished the last bite of his own food, glad to have something approaching an appetite after feeling so ill not long ago. 

"Yeah, let's go. I want to smoke and just be away from everyone for a while." 

He picked up his jacket and made sure he had his wallet. "I saw a couple shops downstairs and I want to see what they have." 

“Okay,” Aya agreed, going to the closet and retrieving his own jacket. He checked for credit cards and cash and picked up the pass key to the private elevator, wondering vaguely if Schwarz always lived in such luxury. No wonder they’d thought the Koneko such a joke. 

When they came out of their room Farfarello was sitting on the couch. He glanced up, "Going out?" 

“Yes,” Aya told him, quashing the desire to make a really snide remark. It was obvious they were going out. “Don’t wait up.” 

"Are you sure you want to go, given the fact that Crawford didn't say you could go?" 

Yohji frowned, "We're only going downstairs to do a little shopping." 

Aya turned to stare coldly at the psycho. “We agreed to fight with you against Rosenkreuz and to train our powers for the common good. We did not agree to become Crawford’s fucking prisoners. Now back off.” 

Farfarello sighed and shook his head. "Do as you will. Who am I to warn you of dangerous people? Well other than being one of those dangerous people who used to kick your pretty red ass." 

Aya actually smiled at that. “You had help, Farfarello,” he said dryly before opening the door and ushering Yohji out of the suite. 

Farfarello watched the pair leave, a sneer on his lips. He could have reminded them that they hadn't been trying to kill Weiss either, but he let it and the two idiots go. 

The only way they would learn just how dangerous Rosenkreuz was would be to let them run into some of their agents without Schwarz to protect them. 

*The two older Weiss just left. How mad to you think Brad is going to be?* he asked Schuldig. 

*They won’t go far,* Schuldig said soothingly, *and I haven’t detected any undesirables in the area so they won’t come to any harm. Might be wise to cut them some slack anyway. We’ll get more co-operation that way.* 

*Maybe. I have my doubts.* Farfarello left the living room to rummage in the small kitchen for something else to eat. While what Aya made was tasty, it had barely been enough to put a dent in how hungry he was. 

*Maybe we should go down and get some groceries. There isn't much up here and Brad's going to be starved when he wakes up.* 

*Didn’t the kitties leave him any? How rude. Okay, then, I guess I’m going to have to move and escort you to the supermarket.* 

*They left plates for him and the little kitten, but I don't think they realize how much Crawford eats since he seldom has more than one meal a day. This looks more like a snack for him.* 

*Okay, let’s go shopping. Might be wise to keep within range of the kitties anyway. Just in case.* 

*Bangkok can be dangerous for tourists, and well, they don't look as threatening as we do.* He joined Schuldig in the living area, sitting down to put on his boots because when he was inside he enjoyed the feel of expensive carpet on his bare toes. 

*We can get some sodas and snacks while we're out. Might be a good idea to find some cream and good coffee for Brad. I'm not sure about the stuff that came with the suite. You know how he is about his coffee. Real cream and only expensive stuff.* 

Schuldig chuckled. *They might not look dangerous, Farf, but I wouldn’t advise any street punks to take them on…not if they want to live. You have to admit they’re good enough to have kept us entertained for a year or two.* 

The German slipped into comfortable loafers and grabbed his wallet. *You ready? Wouldn’t want Vater to wake up to no coffee.* 

*I'm not questioning how good they are. Especially since I know you didn't plan on letting Kudoh catch you at the Ani,* he replied as he opened the door. *Of them all he's the most dangerous, don't you think?* 

He frowned, *I don't want to do anything that will stress Brad further. He's not doing well to begin with.* 

*I shouldn’t worry about Vater if I were you. The new kitty puts out some very strange brain waves in his sleep that I think are helping. As for Kudoh, yes he’s the hardest of Weiss to take down as both Fujimiya and Hidaka have to get in closer. Doesn’t make them less dangerous though.* 

*Well Hidaka with those claws was hardly risky for me,* he shrugged and pushed the button for the elevator. *Fujimiya was entertaining but not hard to take down.* 

*Be interesting to see how good he is with a gun,* Schuldig mused. 

*Damn good so Brad says,* Farfarello remarked. *We talked about it over coffee one morning.* 

Schuldig laughed aloud as he stepped into the elevator. *Now why am I not surprised? Of all the kitties he is the only one who ever came to terms with what he is. Kudoh drinks and Hidaka stresses. Fujimiya accepts. Just as he has accepted us. More readily than I expected, actually.* 

*Yes, he does to some degree. I guess we shouldn't antagonize them. Brad won't be happy if we get them mad.* 

*True, true. They’re just so easy to wind up though. Ah well.* 

The elevator came to a smooth halt on the ground floor and Schuldig stepped out into the foyer. Aya and Yohji could be seen in one of the complex’s many shops. They too appeared to be buying groceries. 

*I think our best bet, if they ask, is to tell them Brad asked us to do a bit of shopping for him. I think they'll buy it, and Brad usually does send us for coffee and incidentals.* 

*And Fujimiya is a tea drinker like most of his race. Yeah that should work. Here goes.* 

Schuldig stepped into the shop and headed towards the selection of quality coffees. Aya turned from his perusal of teas and frowned at the telepath. 

“What the hell do you want now?” he demanded. 

*Or not…* 

Farfarello managed as innocent a smile as he could, "Crawford is picky about his coffee. We came down to get some so our," he glanced at Yohji. "Fearless Leader won't pitch a bitch over crappy coffee." 

Aya rummaged in his trolley before retrieving a pack of java. “Would this be acceptable?” he asked, managing to keep all traces of sarcasm out of his voice somehow. 

Farfarello took the coffee from the ex Weiss, "It might. I don't know the brand so it's hard to say." He passed it to Schuldig, "What do you think?" 

Schuldig nodded. “He likes java beans. This should be fine.” 

Yohji returned to Aya's side with his small basket filled with an assortment of snacks. "Do you think this will keep Ken from chewing the furniture?" he asked as he showed Aya some energy snack bars and a six pack of sport's drinks. 

“Double the quantities and it should keep him quiet for an hour or two,” Aya said, completely straight-faced. 

Yohji nodded, "Yeah, I guess I'll get another two six packs and another box of these things." 

"Get a box for yourself just in case," Farfarello remarked. 

"No thanks. I know what these things taste like. Ken likes eating ground cardboard and glue, but I don't," Yohji replied. "But I'll find something for myself. Just not these granola muck things." 

Aya sighed. “Get some bread, cold meats and salad vegetables. That way you can have sandwiches.” 

Schuldig smiled suddenly, an honest smile unlike his usual smirk. “Let me guess, you’re the only one who knows how to shop. I must admit Nagi usually looks after our shopping.” 

"I can shop, but I don't usually shop for other people. And I didn't say I wasn't going to get energy bars, I'm just not getting these tasteless things that Ken likes." Yohji gave the two Schwarz a sour look and stalked off. 

"He's starting to remind me of Brad," Farfarello commented as he studied the display of tea. 

Aya raised a brow at that. “Really? How?” 

"Just some of the things he does I guess," Farfarello said as he examined a package of tea. "That cross look he just gave me for one." 

Aya seemed to consider that for a moment then he actually grinned. “You know, you could be right,” he said. Still smiling to himself he caught up with Yohji in the cookie aisle. 

Yohji saw the smile on Aya's face and gave his lover an answering one, "Have I told you that seeing you smile makes me want to fuck you?" he asked very softly. 

An eyebrow shot up. “Then what the hell are we doing in a shop?” Aya asked very sweetly. 

"I didn't think you'd want to fuck with your sister in the same apartment," Yohji replied as he picked up a package of chocolate and peanut energy bars to see what was in them. 

“My sister will have to come to terms with both my lifestyle and my sexuality,” Aya said firmly. 

"I just wanted to make sure where you stood on the subject." He followed Aya as the man headed for the frozen fish. 

“I don’t think it will bother her too much.” He picked up a packet of frozen mackerel and added it to his cart. 

Yohji stared at the fish as if it were pure poison. "You aren't making mackerel, please tell me you aren't. Why can't we have perch or... I don't know, anything else." 

“I like mackerel with rice and miso for breakfast,” Aya said mildly. “They have perch, cod and haddock if you prefer them. Also crab sticks, clams, prawns and lobster tails. I can cook mine separately if it bothers you that much.” 

Yohji sighed. "Aya, I know you like mackerel. I've been living with the smell of it for a couple of years. I'm just not sure how everyone else is going to feel about your habit of eating it every morning." 

“Okay.” Aya retrieved the pack from his cart and put it back in the freezer with a sigh. “Why didn’t you say something before?” He considered the options and settled on a pack of crab sticks. “There. I won’t even have to cook them.” 

"Because I can live with it." Yohji leaned in close and whispered, "I love you, but the others might not find your little habits so endearing." 

“Hn. Yohji…what should we do about Singapura?” 

"What do you want to do?" Yohji counter questioned. "As I recall you were the one kissing him when I walked in." The blond still wasn't too happy about that. He'd as much promised Aya that he wasn't going to have any other lovers, but here was the other man, who as far as he knew, had stayed celibate for around two years planning to keep Singapura as a sexual plaything. 

Aya frowned slightly. “I hadn’t intended to kiss him but it was like I couldn’t help myself and now, whenever I see him, he’s on his knees and wanting to obey my every whim.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t help but wonder why and what it would be like to possess someone in that way.” 

Yohji didn't reply immediately, the blond looking in the freezer case at small boxes of frozen treats that were obviously intended for the children of tourists. 

"When I look at you I wonder what you'd be like, on your knees in nothing but a collar," he whispered. 

Aya stared. “In your dreams, Kudoh,” he spat out angrily. “I’m not your plaything whatever my feelings for you.” 

"I never said you were a plaything, I thought you were my lover and might be interested in pleasing me and having some fun, Aya," he replied, his tone taking on a sharp note. "But I see I was wrong." 

He stalked off, angry with Aya for acting like a bitch over a comment that Yohji had thought would be better received. 

Aya sighed. That hadn’t come out the way he’d expected and now Yohji was pissed at him. He pouted, eyes narrowed, before deliberately putting the mackerel back in his cart. Damn Yohji. 

He headed for the checkout, ignoring Schuldig and Farfarello, and stood waiting for his shopping to be totalled up. 

Yohji dumped his basket in Schuldig's arms and stalked out of the store. There was a bar down the walkway and that seemed like a much better place to be. 

*Temperamental, aren't they?* Farfarello asked his lover. 

“Stop thinking things at him and pass me that basket,” Aya snapped. 

Schuldig handed the basket over with a grin. “So are you going to retrieve him from the nearest bar or do we get that particular chore?” he asked. 

“As far as I’m concerned he can pickle his liver and be done with it!” 

*Very temperamental. I wonder how Brad will handle them,* he mused to his own lover he handed Abyssinian the basket. 

*Do you think we should try and keep the blond kitten sober? Crawford may skin us if he's drunk.* 

*If we don’t nobody will. Fujimiya is really pissed about something or other that Kudoh said to him, so I can’t see him going to a bar after him.* 

*He's not going to do anything we ask,* Farfarello replied. *But you should be the one that goes to get him. He might listen to you, but I'm just the house nutcase so no chance of him paying me any heed.* 

*He’s not that fond of me either,* Schuldig responded with a mental sigh, *but I guess I’d better try.* 

*I'll stay here and watch this one. Let me know if you need me.* 

*Okay. I doubt if your kitty will do anymore than go back upstairs in a huff. He might even fuck Singapura which would be good for both of them! I get the bar, a shared pack or two of cigarettes and a maudlin sob story.* 

*Well if he goes upstairs I'll come back down with you.* 

*All due respect, Farf, but I don’t think he likes me very much and I think he likes you even less. Let me go alone. I promise I’ll behave.* 

*Well see if you can get him to come back before Brad wakes up. You know he hates how I make coffee.* 

Farfarello put the basket he was carrying down as the red kitten walked away. 

*Get Abyssinian to make the coffee if I’m not back, or Nagi, perhaps.* Schuldig paid for their own groceries and handed the bag to Farfarello before following Yohji. 

*Don't get drunk or you know who will murder us, okay?* he asked as he strolled away from Schuldig. 

*I’m not that stupid, Farf! Sheesh!* 

*I never said you were stupid, but you are impulsive.* 

* * * * * * * 

Aya-chan was bored. Ran had wandered off to the shops with that Yohji and she didn’t know any of the others well enough to start up a conversation. She really wanted to talk to her brother, to tell him she knew he had been involved with the death of their enemies the Takatori and that it didn’t matter to her. He was still her brother no matter what he might have become. 

She sighed and sipped some jasmine tea that she’d found in the kitchen. It wasn’t her favourite but Ran would know to buy green tea for her. 

Zeshin entered the kitchen on silent, bare feet. Seeing the girl, Abyssinian's sister, seated at the table he paused, uncertain if he should disturb her solitude. 

But he was thirsty and the water from the bathroom tap tasted too metallic for his liking. 

He offered her a shy smile and went to the refrigerator to find some juice. 

She returned the smile her own bright. Perhaps this boy could provide the company she craved. “My brother went shopping a while ago so there should be more choice when he returns,” she offered. 

Zeshin frowned at the orange drink in his hand. It wasn't real juice but it would have to do until something better was forthcoming. 

"Can I get you something to eat? There isn't much of a selection but I could make you some fruit salad if you'd like." 

He felt a little uncomfortable talking to her, but he always felt totally awkward around girls. He had so little experience with them, and his time with Weiss hadn't done much to help him with that lack of skill. 

“I had some of Ran’s curry, thank you.” She frowned slightly. Although her brother had worked in a fast food place when in high school, she hadn’t realised he could do more than flip burgers. 

"Oh... um… okay then," he replied, once again at a loss. 

As if she’d summoned him with her thoughts, Ran chose that moment to storm into the kitchen, his arms full of bags which he dumped on the table before turning abruptly and stalking back out. 

She was not best pleased at being ignored by him and wondered what had happened to make him so angry, unless that Yohji had upset him. 

Zeshin sighed. He'd seen the older Weiss in moods like that before. Moods that Yohji seemed able to trigger in the red-head by his very presence. He still had difficulty reconciling them as lovers when they fought so much. 

There was no sign of Yohji and, knowing the blond, that would mean he was off getting the only exercise the man seemed capable of performing. The bending of his elbow as he lifted a drink to his lips. 

The teen wondered if he should do anything, and decided that, after what he'd almost done, he wasn't the best candidate for handling the situation. Or any situation involving the older Weiss for that matter. 

“Did that Yohji upset him do you think?” she asked. Perhaps Zeshin could answer some of her questions. 

The boy didn't miss the way she referred to the blond man. 'That Yohji...' It was an odd choice of words. While he wasn't terribly good with girls, he'd been trained to note subtle nuances, and her choice of words was all he needed to come to the conclusion that, whatever she might say to the contrary, she didn't approve of the relationship between her brother and 'that Yohji'. As if the man's name indicated a species akin to any other undeserving vermin. 

He sighed again realizing that the pair of men were in for a much worse time of it than either of them knew. Not only was their relationship strained by everything that had happened to them-- his own misguided attempt to kill them included-- but now they would have to contend with Aya-chan's disapproval. 

"They still haven't gotten used to the changes that we're facing. The end of Weiss, our relationship with Kritiker in flames, Ken not being dead like they thought," he swallowed bitterness, "the Takatori's betrayal." 

She sniffed at that. “They always were good at betrayal,” she said, “every last one of them.” 

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “I’m perhaps being unfair,” she said quietly. “It just came as such a shock to find Ran alive and then to find he prefers men to women.” She looked directly at Zeshin then. “Will this Yohji treat him well?” 

There were so many questions and she wasn’t sure if she wanted the answers. “Do they often fight like that?” 

Zeshin shrugged, "This is, I think, something new for both of them. Until recently Yohji was determined to have just about every woman in Tokyo between the age of 18 and 30 so long as they were pretty. At least that was how it seemed." 

He set down his bottle of juice and started unpacking the abandoned bags of groceries. "Can I ask you something a bit personal?" 

“You can ask. I’m not entirely sure that I’ll answer but I won’t take offence.” She stood up and started to help him unpack groceries. A small smile crossed her features when she found the packet of green tea. “He remembered.” 

"I just wanted to know why you keep saying 'that Yohji' as if," he frowned, "there might be a different Yohji around, or like he's not a person maybe. It just sounds.." he turned away before finishing, "disrespectful and rude." 

Aya-chan blushed to the roots of her hair. How many times had her parents and brother chided her for her impetuousness and disrespect? And now this boy had called her on it too. It was true that she had no idea what to make of Yohji or her brother’s relationship with him but she should not have been so rude. 

“I just… I’m… I want Ran to be happy, is all, and it doesn’t really seem as if he is.” 

"How can he be considering the things that are happening?" Zeshin asked her softly. "Do you think any of us are happy?" 

He stared at the noodles in his hand, frowning at them, but it was very apparent that he wasn't thinking about the noodles. His expression was much too grim for mere noodles. "I tried to kill them," he admitted softly. "It was what Mamoru wanted, and I was a fool for listening to him. I'm only alive because Crawford seems to have a use for me, but if it were up to Aya..." he shook his head. "I don't know if I'd be here or not." He gave a bitter hint of a smile, thinking of Aya's mouth on his lips and the brutal passion of the man's kisses. "And I'm probably part of the reason they are fighting. But I can't be sure of anything really." 

He turned and put the noodles into a cabinet, "And none of us really wants to be here with Schwarz. Schwarz and Weiss have been enemies too long." 

“You tried to kill them? You’re part of the reason? Schwarz rescued me yet they’re enemies?” Instead of getting questions answered she was finding many new ones. Mamoru was a Takatori, his perfidy was normal for that family but Zeshin wasn’t dead. Wouldn’t an assassin be unforgiving of someone who’d tried to kill him? 

None of it was making any sense to her. “Please, help me out here. I need to know what I’ve walked into and whether I should even be here or not. I know what you all are, and in Ran’s case, I think I know why. But so much is hidden from me still.” 

Zeshin turned a fragile smile on the girl, "Welcome to our little club of mushrooms. We live in the dark and are fed on... well I'm sure you know what I'd say." 

He gazed at her for a moment, golden eyes full of sadness and something else hard to define. "I don't have any answers really. And the man that has them doesn't say much. We're here because Crawford wanted us here and beyond that," he shook his head, "I'm not sure I'm the person who can answer your questions. I think all the answers are held by your brother and the Oracle." 

“And yet you say they are long time enemies. Why would Crawford want to help an enemy. Unless… He sees the future, right? And he doesn’t strike me as the sort of man who does things for altruistic reasons. So we must all have some use for him.” She sighed. “No wonder Ran is unhappy. He always hated being used. And I’ve probably been blaming the wrong person…” 

She tailed off and offered Zeshin a weak smile. “I’m sorry. I always did talk too much.” 

He shrugged once more and offered up another of those wan smiles, "I don't think that man uses a toilet without having a plan before hand," he remarked softly. "And no one likes being used, but..." he put some fruit in the refrigerator, "I guess we're getting used to it from being Weiss. We weren't anything but convenient tools to Kritiker. Ones they felt no compunction over discarding after we'd served our purpose." 

She shivered at that thought. Seemingly they were all damned lucky to be alive yet there was a ray of hope in her mind. Crawford seemed to look after his own and if she and her brother and the rest of Weiss had been adopted, no matter what the reason, she felt they would be looked after. 

“Perhaps,” she said with unusual diffidence, “things will be better for you now…for all of us.” 

"Maybe," but the boy's tone clearly conveyed his scepticism 

“You don‘t seem too sure,” she said. “Is that just part of being an assassin or do you have some other reason?” 

"How do you trust someone that, until recently, was trying to kill you? I just keep waiting for another betrayal. I think all of us are." 

“By that reasoning, Ran and Yohji can’t trust you,” she pointed out. 

"What makes you think they actually trusted me before I tried to kill them? They didn't know me, they still don't really know me, nor do I know them." He frowned, "We're killers. The only person I trust now is Ken, and I'm not so sure about that anymore either. He's... changed because of what Mamoru ordered me to do, and all the lies he told to us." 

“Fucking Takatori,” she muttered. “You want to know something? I think if all you guys don’t start learning to trust each other, you’re all going to die too fast and too young.” 

"It's easy for you to say that because you haven't gone through the same things we have. It's hard to trust anyone when the person you trusted most turns out to be the biggest liar you've ever met and then turns someone against you that you were supposed to trust. It's hard not to become cynical and bitter when someone you loved orders you to do a horrible thing stabs you in the back and doesn't think twice about it!" Zeshin told her, his words angry and filled with pain. 

He gave her a final look, one rife with deep sorrow and pain. "I hope you never have to go through even a tenth of what any of us have," he told her and then walked out of the kitchen. 

Aya-chan finished putting the groceries away and made herself some green tea, Zeshin’s words going through her mind. He was right, although he hadn’t said it in so many words, she would never understand. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig ducked into the bar where Yohji had vanished and spotted the blond sitting at the bar and nursing a whiskey. He wandered over and offered him a cigarette. “You want to talk about it?” he asked. 

"No," was the flat and unfriendly answer. 

“Well take the goddamn cigarette, at least,” Schuldig snapped, tired of the attitude already. “Jeez, no wonder Fujimiya left you to it.” 

Yohji's hand flashed out and closed on Schuldig's wrist painfully, "Go the fuck away!" He let go, shoving the man backwards at the same time. 

Schuldig kept his feet and used his telepathic speed to grab Yohji round the throat. “Much as I’d love to leave you to it, I can’t. Crawford in a rage is a lot more scary than you could ever be.” 

"And if you don't let me go, you will attract the police which will truly piss him off. So go away. I'm having one drink then I'm taking a walk, alone, so I can think." 

Schuldig let him go but sat on the stool next to his and lit a cigarette. He ordered a small beer and then leaned his elbows on the bar. “Sometimes talking helps,” he said. 

Yohji gave him a look with more than a touch of frost in it as he lit a cigarette. 

Schuldig sighed. “Or not,” he said. “Okay, I’m going to drink my beer and smoke my cigarette and then I’ll go back to the apartment and leave you to it.” 

The blond picked up his whiskey and took a sip, nursing the drink the same way he would have done on a recon mission at a club. 

"So he's really your lover?" Yohji asked quietly. 

Schuldig’s brows rose in surprise at the question but he answered readily enough. “Yeah, he was man enough to tame me.” 

A gold eyebrow arched at the telepath's choice of words. "So you're um... bottom then?" 

Schuldig chuckled softly. “Can you honestly imagine Farf being bottom? Yeah, I’m, what’s your word… uke? Most of the time. Very occasionally he likes to switch but not often.” 

Yohji nodded, "That's the word." He sipped his drink and finally asked, "Do you love him, or is it about sex?" 

“I love him. How could I not love him? Poor, fucked up bastard that he is. And also he’s very intelligent once you get past his possibly natural desire to kill most of humanity. I say possibly natural because humanity has let him down rather badly in his short but eventful life.” 

"Well he's not the only one that's had to wade through a life of shit," he remarked before going quiet again. 

"He almost reminds me of Aya in a way. Intelligent and you're never sure what's going on in his head." He frowned. "He makes me uneasy, but so does Aya sometimes." He sighed, "Especially when he gets mad and I don't know exactly why." 

Schuldig frowned slightly. “Can I ask you something personal? Who’s on top in your relationship?” 

Yohji sighed and stared at his drink. "I was," he said flatly sounding none too happy. "But I don't think that's what he wants." 

“A year ago I’d have felt the same way you do,” Schuldig said thoughtfully, “but Farf wasn’t playing. Aya, he’s a predator just like Farf is. Oh I know he’s saner than Farf but he is a predator all the same. And predators don’t make good bottoms. If he let you top him it’s because he wanted to please you.” 

He was silent for a moment, staring at the glowing end of his cigarette. “Can I give you some advice? It’s up to you whether or not you take it. A guy like Farf or Fujimiya takes some holding but the effort is usually worth it. Even if it means you’re the one being fucked.” 

Yohji finished his drink and stared at the ice, lost in thought. "Yeah, I know. My problem is I'm not sure I'm the one he really wants to do the holding." 

He left the barstool and walked out of the bar. 

Schuldig stubbed out his cigarette and sighed. He wants both of you, Kudoh, but you’re not sure about sharing. He waited for a moment then followed Yohji at a discreet distance, using his telepathy to locate him rather than line of sight. 

Yohji wandered into a shop and idly looked through the clothing but his mind wasn't on the clothes, it was on Aya, Singapura and the fact that Aya wanted to be on top and Yohji didn't mind that too much. What he minded was sharing.


	13. Day in the Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Having ascertained that Yohji was going to be fine and was actually working his way back to the apartment, Schuldig headed back there himself. Brad’s five hours were almost up and if he didn’t wake him in time he would get his head bitten off. 

The smell of coffee hit his nostrils as soon as he entered the apartment and he smiled to himself. That was one less thing to worry about. 

He knocked on Brad’s door but received no answer. Opening the door he found Brad still asleep, one arm draped round an equally comatose Bengal. A brow quirked up in amusement, but he crossed the room and shook Brad gently. 

“You’ve had five hours, Vater. Fujimiya has brewed some coffee.” 

Crawford groaned softly and opened his eyes, automatically reaching for his glasses. He felt better, but more groggy than was normal and he glanced at the boy. 

"Has there been any blood or mayhem?" he asked the telepath quietly. "Or has everyone been playing nice?" 

“No blood or mayhem but Kudoh and Fujimiya have had a lovers tiff over Singapura.” Schuldig shrugged slightly. “Kudoh’s on his way back now so I don’t know if they’ll start yelling at each other.” 

"Those two," he shook his head, "have emotional problems to work out." He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, but he remained sitting there for a moment. 

"Maybe you and Farfarello should give them a few tips. I think they need them." He stretched a bit, glanced at the sleeping boy and allowed himself the barest hint of a smile. "Not what I wanted, but acceptable," he said. 

He stood and pulled Schuldig close, actually running his fingers through the German's hair, dark eyes searching the azure gaze as if he were trying to see into the red-head's mind. *How are you feeling?* 

Schuldig smiled. “I’m fine having spent most of the afternoon with a pissed off Kudoh. He’s kept the voices at bay. What about you, Vater? Are you rested?” 

Brad considered the question, "Yes, actually I feel rather good." 

He started to unbutton his pyjama top, "I think I'll be keeping our little Bengal here. You might consider making nice with Kudoh, and convincing Farfarello not to kill him." 

“Farf’s reaction will depend on exactly how nice I make with him,” Schuldig said with a grin. “I have offered the benefit of my advice if he chooses to take it. Strangely he confided in me. If Farf sees it as trying to help the kitties sort out their little love triangle he should behave himself.” 

"We have to tie them to us a bit more tightly than simple chat will accomplish. Siberian is as good as ours if the relationship that is starting between him and Nagi is allowed to flourish, but the pair we most need is still teetering at the edge. I see them leaving us, and that will prove our downfall should it happen." 

“Strangely, Fujimiya seems more resigned to staying than Kudoh does at the moment. Which is why I think we need to help them sort out their problems with Singapura. The boy appears to be totally Fujimiya’s but then again he has betrayed them once already and Fujimiya doesn’t take kindly to betrayal.” 

Schuldig sighed. “I’m doing the best I can with Kudoh, but he doesn’t like me enough to trust me or listen to me.” 

Brad raised an eyebrow, "Or he's attracted to you and is doing his best to keep you at arm's length because he doesn't want any reprisals from Fujimiya." 

“I think Fujimiya would be the least of his problems if Farf thought he was attracted to me.” He frowned slightly. “What have you seen, Vater?” 

"Too many things," the American replied, his expression troubled. "We're at one of those spots where there are so many possibilities branching out that it's hard for me find our way through." 

Schuldig was silent for a moment or two as he thought things through. “It seems to me that if Fujimiya stays then they all will, including Kudoh. It might be wisest to win him over.” 

"Any suggestions?" Brad questioned as he got underwear out of the drawer. "I'd love nothing more than to throw the bitch down and fuck him blind, but somehow I doubt that will have the desired effect." 

“Especially as Kudoh is bemoaning the fact that he’s not an uke after all,” Schuldig said with a smirk. “The only way to win him over is to earn his respect as an equal. Now he knows what he can do, that’s exactly what he is, after all.” 

Brad headed for the shower, "This is going to take time for me to sort out, and I don't think we're going to get the time we need. Or they need for that matter." 

“That may just be a blessing in disguise,” Schuldig said. “Nothing will bring us together quicker than a common enemy.” 

"Don't count on that," the man replied. "The tension building between Kudoh and Fujimiya has the potential to get us all killed." 

“Maybe Siberian could talk some sense into them,” Schuldig suggested. “Or do we lock them in a room together?” 

"I don't know," he replied, which for him was an unusual admission. 

Meanwhile, the cause of all this soul-searching was calmly drinking tea in the kitchen. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about Yohji. They were both dominant, alpha males and he’d possibly made a mistake by letting the blond think he was in charge. He’d only let Yohji do the fucking because he loved and trusted the man. 

Yohji entered the apartment heading into the room he was sharing with Aya to get his stuff. He'd rented his own room a few floors down because he wanted to be away from Aya and everyone else and fuck Crawford if he didn't like the arrangement. 

Hearing Yohji come in, Aya headed towards their bedroom. Yohji was throwing stuff into his suitcase. Hurt by this, Aya lashed out. “Up to your old tricks again, Kudoh? Fuck them and leave them?” 

The blond spun around and grabbed the younger man by the shoulders, slamming him into the wall, jade eyes hot with anger. 

"I seem to recall seeing you kissing someone else after you told me you were mine and I was yours! Fuck you! Or rather, go fuck yourself!" 

“You said you wanted to see me kiss him,” Aya reminded him, orchid eyes narrowed. He pushed Yohji off him. “Are you that stupid that you’d let something so damned petty destroy us all?” 

The blond visibly wilted, shoulders slumping. "You're beautiful, Aya, and I love you. And yes he's beautiful too, and I liked how it looked when you were kissing him. But he's not you, I don't have any interest in him." 

He stepped away and dropped onto the bed. "I..." he lowered his gaze, "I can't be what he'll be for you. I know that and you need to understand it." 

Tormented jade eyes raised to regard the younger killer, "I can take being on bottom, but not all the time. I like the feel of being inside someone a lot more than having someone inside me. Why do you think I've fucked so many women? That and the fact I've never found a man I wanted to stay with, other than you and I'm not sure it's going to work. 

"I love you, I want to be with you but..." he ran a hand through his hair, "I'm not sure this is going to work for us." 

“Do you really believe I’d love you the way I do if you were like him?” Aya asked. “I don’t want you to be some kind of fuck toy, Yohji. I need you to be strong, someone I can lean on when I have to.” 

He stared at the carpet, eyes glittering as if he were in some kind of fever. “I don’t care who’s top and who’s bottom. Not with you. If that’s what it takes to keep you by my side and at my back in a fight, then I’ll be your bitch. I don’t care about that.” 

He raised his eyes to meet Yohji’s. “And I’ll never touch Singapura again if that’s what you want.” Then he swallowed his pride completely and knelt on the floor at Yohji’s feet. “I…I don’t have a collar to wear but this is Bangkok. I’m sure we could find one for me if you wish.” 

Strange how easy it was to give up his pride for the blond. 

Looking at his lover kneeling at his feet sent a blaze of desire through the blond, not because of their relative positions, but because Aya, proud, cold, aloof Aya had humbled himself to show his love. 

Yohji caressed Aya's cheek, fingers sliding down to cup his chin, he lifted Aya's face and stared into his eyes before he slipped off the bed, pulling Aya into his arms and kissing him with tender passion. 

Aya gave himself up to both the kiss and Yohji, letting the blond take full control for once. It surprised him just how liberating that was. He didn’t have to be in control with Yohji the way he did with everyone else and there was a strange kind of freedom in that. 

He tilted his head back, offering up his neck. 

The blond accepted the invitation, kissing his way down the pale throat, sucking gently, rolling his tongue over Aya's skin and breathing gently across the dampened skin. 

Aya’s mouth opened slightly on a gasp of pure pleasure at the sensations Yohji was creating in him. His arms went round the other man and he pulled him even closer, not wanting to let go in case he decided to finish packing and head out of the door. “Take me, Yohji,” he whispered. 

Yohji chuckled, "Tell me where you want to go. Where I'd like to take you is down to the room I rented and fuck you until you beg me to stop, and then make sure you scream from pleasure. Interested?" 

Aya pulled away far enough to stare at Yohji. There was something to be said for being away from everyone else if his lover intended to make this a particularly noisy bout of sex. Finally, he nodded. “Okay,” he said, “but your things stay here.” 

Yohji didn't answer that, he was too busy exploring Aya's neck with his lips and tongue. 

Aya prised his lover off his neck, hard though it was. “Are you listening to me?” 

"You really do talk too much, Aya," Yohji replied. "I was having fun here. And yes, I was listening." 

Orchid eyes narrowed and Aya threw himself at Yohji, pinning the taller man against the bed. “If you’re that intent on what you’re doing then we don’t need to go anywhere,” he growled before attacking the blond’s throat in his turn. 

Yohji's eyes closed and he wrapped long arms around the red-head, his heartbeat had picked up at the younger man's aggression. He found he'd actually liked it this time as much as the bits of aggressive behaviour Aya had shown with him before. But that did not mean he was an uke by nature. Not in the least. 

"Guess we should go then," the blond said, but he wasn't moving, 

Aya muttered something about dumb blonds before roughly kissing Yohji to shut him up. “I’m not going anywhere,” he growled when they both came up for air, “and neither are you.” 

He straddled Yohji, slipping his hands under the blond’s top and caressing the smooth, warm skin underneath. His fingers brushed against nipples and he flicked them in passing. 

Yohji's breath caught and he make no effort to stifle the moan of pleasure he voiced because of the touch of Aya's hands over his chest. 

It felt good. He slid his own hands under Aya's shirt and slid his hands up along the skin of his ribs, fingers finding the younger man's nipples. 

Aya arched at the touch, letting out his breath on a low gasp. Then he sat up and tugged at Yohji’s top. “I want this off!” 

A slow, sexy and highly mischievous smile spread across Yohji's face, "Do you? And what if I say no?" 

Aya reached back and withdrew the knife that was always tucked into his boot. “Then I’ll cut it off,” he said, unfolding the blade. 

"I don't think so. I don't have enough clothes for you to ruin the nicest shirt I currently have." 

He pulled it off over his head and tossed it aside. "There. Happy?" 

“Ecstatic,” Aya said with a slight smirk. He closed the knife and tucked it back in its compartment in his boot before pulling his own shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor. 

Every muscle in his body contributed to what Yohji did next. He gripped the red-haired man and twisted himself, rolling to put the smaller man under him, pinning the swordsman to the bed. 

He was grinning. "And now I'm ecstatic." He lowered his head and nipped Aya's chest, catching a nipple lightly between his teeth. 

Aya chuckled softly, deep in his throat before the sound changed to a gasp of pure pleasure. He relaxed in Yohji’s hands and closed his eyes, giving himself up to sensation. 

“Yotan,” he murmured, running his own hands up and down the blond’s back. 

"Hmmm?" Yohji almost purred as he licked the bitten nipple and pushed Aya's legs wide so he could press his jean covered crotch against Aya's, teasing them both. 

Aya bucked against him, his erection almost painfully pinned against the answering hardness from Yohji. His hands fumbled at the waist of Yohji’s jeans, undoing belt buckle, button and pulling at the zip. 

The blond grabbed both of Aya's hands and pulled them away, pinning them above Aya's head. "Easy, baby. We're not in any hurry," his lips brushed across Aya's ear, the tip of his tongue darting out to sweep along the curve before he breathed softly into it. 

Aya groaned letting Yohji do as he wished for now. It all felt too good to argue anyway. He tilted his head slightly, letting his growing hair fall back from the ear the blond was attacking. 

Yohji raised up, bracing himself and tightening his grip on Aya's wrists as he did so. He looked down at his lover, taking in his beauty, "I love you," he stated as he leaned down once more to attack the man's pale skin with his mouth. 

Aya’s head thrashed from side to side as Yohji’s mouth roamed over his neck and torso sending tingles through him that headed straight for his already rock hard cock. 

"I love your skin. Pale as snow, but hot as passion itself," Yohji whispered as he kissed along the man's collarbone. 

He pushed Aya's hands together and grabbed a discarded towel, wrapping it around them before he pulled a short piece of wire from his watch and bound his lover's hands. 

Aya’s first instinct was to struggle but he made himself accept the bonds, knowing just how much Yohji needed this after their fight in the shop. He took in deep breaths of Yohji’s scent with which to calm himself. 

"You trust me, don't you?" he asked as he kissed his way down Aya's body, one hand still on the red-head's bound wrists. 

“You think you’d have got this far if I didn’t?” Aya retorted before gasping again as a tongue swept over his hipbone. 

Yohji unbuttoned Aya's pants and pulled the zipper down, his grip on Aya's wrists getting harder as he leaned down and placed his mouth over the outline of Aya' cock, lips pressing to the head, his warm breath forced gently through the man's underwear. 

Aya gasped again, then began to pant as the sensations became too much to take without some sort of release. “Yohji, please,” he murmured disjointedly. 

"Breathe Aya. Take slow deep breaths and the need backs off," Yohji instructed. 

Aya took the first of several long deep breaths and felt the urge to come recede to manageable proportions. 

Yohji smiled, "Good. Lesson one learned. Now keep breathing like that no matter what I do," the blond instructed as he pulled Aya's boots and pants off. 

"Lesson two. Don't move no matter what I do." He pushed Aya's legs wide and settled between them, resuming the slow breathing he'd been doing, but now his hands were busy too, massaging the man's thighs, fingertips grazing across the balls concealed by the clinging underwear. 

Aya kept still and his breathing slow and deep except at those moments when he had to gasp. 

"Tell me what you want me to do, Aya." 

“I want you to fuck me, Yotan,” Aya gasped out. 

"Do you?" Yohji asked as he gripped the waistband of Aya's underwear and slowly pulled them down, freeing the rigid cock into the cool air. 

"Why should I fuck you? Give me a good reason. Just one, that's all I need." 

“Because you are the only one I trust enough to fuck me,” Aya said. “You’re all I have now, Yohji. My sister is safe but has her own life to lead. There is nobody else and I need this. From you I need this.” 

Yohji smiled at his lover, "You need to be fucked? You sure?" he asked, a hand closing over Aya's balls, caressing them gently. 

“Yes,” Aya hissed. “If it’s all you’ll allow, so be it. Fuck me, Yohji.” 

"Always in such a hurry," the blond muttered as he took Aya's cock in his hand. Grinning wickedly he leaned down and took the full length of it into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the head as he did. 

Aya arched bringing his hips off the bed as the wet warmth of Yohji’s mouth engulfed him. How he longed to bury himself inside the blond but guessed that he would never be allowed that privilege. But this was almost as good. 

Yohji sucked gently, enjoying the taste of the cock in his mouth, the delicate flavour that was Aya's pre-cum, faintly salty, slightly sweet, purely Aya. 

He gave the man a few moments of pleasure while he considered what he wanted to do. Please himself, or please Aya? 

Or find a way he could please them both. 

Aya moaned softly, held helpless by both the wire and the pleasure Yohji was giving him. 

Making a decision Yohji grabbed the lube he'd left under his pillow and poured some into his hand. 

He stopped what he was doing to Aya, slathered the lube over the red-head's cock and quickly straddled the younger man's hips. 

"You better be good at this," he said as he gripped Aya's cock and eased himself down on it. 

Aya’s eyes flew open and he stared up at Yohji in amazement. Then he smiled as Yohji gently lowered himself until Aya was buried completely in the tight warmth of his lover’s body. 

Yohji smiled at Aya's surprised look. It felt good to have Aya inside him, not because it had been a long time since he'd allowed himself to be fucked, but because it was Aya, and it was something the younger man wanted. 

“I might be better if you untied me,” Aya said softly. 

"I told you I love you," Yohji said as he undid the wire and towel holding Aya's wrists. 

Once he was free, and the circulation had returned to his hands somewhat, Aya reached out and took hold of Yohji’s hips urging the man to move to his rhythm. A slight adjustment and his lover groaned as Aya found his sweet spot. 

Yohji let Aya set the pace, his thighs tensed allowing his lover room to move, but the action tightened his grip on his lover's cock. 

It was Aya’s turn to moan as Yohji clenched around him. “Relax,” he murmured, voice husky with lust. 

"You don't like what I'm doing?' Yohji asked as he rose up slightly, aiding Aya in what he was doing. 

“I just want it to last a bit longer,” Aya told him as he snapped his hips upward again. 

"Then breathe like I told you to," Yohji replied as he took a deep breath, and grinned at his lover. 

“Hmm,” was Aya’s only verbal response. His physical response was to grab Yohji and roll them over again so that Yohji was beneath him. He bent his lover’s long legs up until they were resting against his shoulders then pressed into Yohji again. 

Yohji moaned. 

“Remember to breathe deeply, Yohji,” Aya said with a grin. 

The blond grabbed a handful of Aya's hair and pulled the younger man down for a kiss. 

Aya was happy to oblige and ravaged Yohji’s lips hungrily until both were gasping for air. Then he braced himself on his arms and took up a slow but steady rhythm. 

Yohji took a deep, slow breath and caressed his lover, running his hands over the pale skin. "You're so beautiful, Aya." 

Aya gazed down at Yohji, his blond waves dishevelled and spread out over the pillow, green eyes half closed in pleasure. “You’re the beautiful one, Yohji.” 

Yohji's reply was a soft moan, his fingers digging into the man's shoulders slightly, "Show me how good you are, Aya." 

And Aya attempted to do just that. Even though he’d never been in this position before, it felt so right to have Yohji moaning beneath him. Yes, he was happy for it to be the other way round too but this… He groaned softly and thrust into Yohji faster and harder, hoping in some part of his brain that he wasn’t hurting his lover. 

Roaring flame ignited inside the blond as Aya's pace stroked the sweet place deep inside him. He groaned his lover's name and held tighter, his grip almost painful on the swordsman's shoulders. 

It was all becoming too much and Aya braced on one arm whilst moving his now free hand to Yohji’s cock. He stroked it with one gentle finger before taking it in his hand and pumping in rhythm with his thrusts. “Come for me, Yohji,” he whispered. 

"Going to, come. Waiting for you," Yohji panted out. 

Those words were enough to send Aya over the edge and he spurted deep inside the tight heat that held his cock so firmly. He felt as if he was going to come forever as spurt after spurt of warm, wet cum shot into Yohji. “Oh God! Yohji!” he all but screamed. 

Gasping Yohji bucked under Aya, hot cum splattering over his belly and Aya's hand. 

Aya had the presence of mind not to collapse on his lover, but it was a near thing. He felt utterly exhausted yet completely content. When he could manage his body once again he withdrew gently and fell to one side, still holding onto Yohji. He gave a satisfied rumble from somewhere deep in his throat that sounded almost like a purring cat. 

Yohji slid an arm around Aya and held him close, not caring that they were both damp with sweat. It felt good to lay there with his lover pressed against him. He turned slightly to press a kiss to Aya's mouth. 

"That was good, and I love you." 

“I love you, too,” Aya replied almost on the edge of sleep. Then he jerked wide awake. “Was it? Really?” 

"Umm hmm," Yohji affirmed as he started to relax. He was a bit tired, even after the few hours sleep he'd gotten on the plane. But more than that, it felt good to be next to Aya in a bed. 

“I thought you just let me to keep me happy,” Aya said, relaxing again. He smiled out into the room before making himself comfortable in Yohji’s arms and letting sleep claim him. A shower could wait. 

"Hm, that was what I intended, but," Yohji sighed, "it did feel good, it just didn't last long enough." 

“Sorry,” Aya said through his sleepiness, “was first time like that. Not used to it.” 

Now it was Yohji's turn to react with shock, "What do you mean it was your first time like that? You've never fucked someone when you were on top?" 

“You really see Knight or Kikyou being on the bottom?” Aya asked. “That was always where I was.” 

"Since I don't really know either of them, I have no idea." He closed his eyes, "What would you have done if I didn't like it?" he asked, becoming aware of the drying semen on his stomach but unwilling to move just yet. 

“They’re alpha males - well, Kikyou was and Yuushi still is. I would have let things go on as before,” Aya said. “I’m not insecure enough to believe that my manhood depends on fucking rather than being fucked. With you, I’m happy either way.” 

Yohji kissed Aya's cheek, "My only complaint is lack of stamina, but since it's been so long for you it's understandable." 

He sighed, "Let's take a nap and maybe when we wake up we can try again. Do you want to do that?" 

Aya’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Lack of stamina? As I recall it you were the one waiting for me.” 

"You were fucking me too hard, too fast. And I'm not really used to being on the bottom either," Yohji retorted softly as he pulled the sheet over them, his legs beginning to feel chilled. 

The nap sounded good though and he was getting addicted to fucking with Yohji, whoever was on top. “Yeah,” he muttered, “sounds good.” 

"Yeah it does," he agreed as he kissed his lover. "I want to see if we can go longer next time. I never feel really satisfied unless I've gotten to fool around for an hour or so." 

Aya snorted but inwardly he had to agree that fooling around for that long sounded like fun. “Greedy bastard,” he commented through a yawn. His arms went round Yohji again and he settled his head against his chest. 

"Damn right I'm greedy. Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?" Yohji asked as he cradled the red-head against him. "Go to sleep. We can talk and fuck more later." 

“You’re the one doing all the damned talking,” Aya argued although his eyes were now closed and he was almost asleep. 

Yohji's reply was a soft chuckle as he tightened his hold on the younger man. Aya was talking more in the last few days than he'd talked to any of them in the last three years. It amused the blond to hear the once too quiet man talking so much. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken was staring at the soccer game, but not really seeing it. His mind was elsewhere, drifting between past, present and the uncertain future. 

So much had happened. Finding out that Aya and Yohji were still alive, that the Takatori-- never Omi, his lover Omi had been another person-- had ordered Zeshin the boy he'd trained to kill them. And now their partnership with Schwarz. 

Schwarz. And the feelings he was starting to have for Nagi. Iron and a magnet, and it made no sense, and yet, in a way it did. 

He rubbed his face and tried to push his worries-- and fears-- aside. He wanted to stop thinking, but he couldn't. Not even to pay attention to a soccer game. 

The gentlest of touches to his shoulder brought Nagi to his attention, even though the teen was across the room. 

He asked no dumb questions. Merely crossed the room to sit at Ken’s feet and turned his attention to the game. Or some of it at least. He knew the issues that all of the original Weiss three had about Takatori Mamoru, especially Ken. He also knew that he was seen as Schwarz and therefore an enemy by all of them and that was also hardest on Ken. 

“I’ve just made Brad some coffee, do you want some?” he asked. 

Ken's chocolate gaze fixed on the younger man, taking a moment to focus, to return to the here and now, opposed to the what if, if only he'd been dwelling on. "Yeah, sure. Lots of cream, just a sprinkle of sugar. Thanks." 

And the here and now wasn't much better than the what ifs and if onlys because that brought him back to the troubling question of exactly what he was feeling for Nagi. 

Ever since that kiss under the tree in the park, he'd been wondering what, if anything, it had meant. And despite hours of pondering the meaning, he wasn't any closer to a discovery. 

Nagi rose gracefully to his feet and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen. He was back a moment or two later with the coffee, exactly as Ken had requested it, floating in the air ahead of him. He caught the mug and handed it over before sighing slightly. 

“I think we need to talk, Ken,” he said quietly. 

Ken regarded the boy for a moment, the steaming coffee cradled in both hands, then nodded agreement. "Yeah, I guess we do." 

“Okay, I’ll start. I’m not fifteen anymore, Ken. I’m eighteen and I sometimes wonder if I ever really was a child. I accidentally killed my mother when I was five years old and had a temper tantrum. I spent some time in an orphanage after that but they were terrified of me so I ran away and lived on the streets for three years. That’s where Brad found me and saved me. You may or may not be able to imagine what those three years were like but let’s just say I’m not the innocent you seem to think I am. If that’s part of the problem, please, forget about it.” 

Ken didn't reply immediately. Perhaps on some level he might have wondered whether Nagi was a virgin or not, but at the same time he'd made an odd assumption that being in Schwarz meant otherwise. Why he'd made that assumption he didn't know, but at some level he realized he had. 

"I think my real problem is... memories." He took a drink of his coffee, eyes haunted by the past. Kase. Omi who'd died at the Ani Museum. Mamoru who'd never replaced him in the brunet's heart. 

Nagi nodded and seemed to pull away, to shrink into himself again. “I understand,” he said sadly, “you remember us only as your enemies.” 

He turned, ready to leave the room. If he was going to cry he was going to do it in private, not where Ken, or even worse, Schuldig, could see. 

"No, it's not you or that really. It's... older than that. I've only had two lovers in my life. Kase and Omi. And they both... died and came back to betray me. It's..." he shook his head. "I feel as if I'm hollow, like my heart is burnt to cinders and my soul is dead." 

He ran a hand through his hair, frowning into the distance of memory, not looking at the blue-eyed teen. 

"You know, I'm really starting to lose it, because I only feel alive when I'm killing," he admitted softly. 

It was hardly surprising really, Nagi realised. Having two lovers betray you couldn’t leave a lot in your life that you could trust apart from your ability to kill. He stepped back into the room and approached Ken. 

“I’m not going to tell you that I’ll never betray you,” he said in his quiet way. “You have no reason to believe me anyway. What I will say is this, I’ll never use you the way Kase did and I’ll not turn my back on my ‘family’ the way Takatori Mamoru did.” 

He took a deep breath and telekinetically massaged Ken’s tense shoulders. 

For a moment the brunet remained tense, but he gave in to the sensation, though he didn't really relax. Not completely. 

"I still don't understand what makes Crawford think the group of us can live like this without killing each other. Especially Farfarello, Yohji and me. He's got to know how much I hate Farfarello and how much Yohji hates all of you." 

Nagi frowned slightly. “Why do you hate Farf especially. I can see why Takatori would hate him, but not you so much. As for Yohji, I think Aya might convince him to…see reason?” He blushed slightly. “Not that I mean he’s unreasonable…” 

Ken looked up at Nagi, "Because he killed Omi. At least, the last time I saw Omi was at the Ani, with Farfarello kicking him because he tried to protect me." He looked away, "I used to hate you too, you know..." he shook his head. "But I can't hate you anymore." 

The ex-soccer player sighed, "Yohji isn't reasonable. He's a control freak. Did you know that? I don't even think Aya realizes it, but I do." 

Nagi’s brows rose slightly but when he thought about it, it did make a certain kind of sense. “That won’t make their relationship easy,” he commented. “I can’t see Aya being controlled for very long. Brad and Schu gave up on trying to control him long ago. He’s too strong, even mentally.” 

"I know," Ken replied. "Not even Kritiker ever really controlled him. Which is probably the real reason Mamoru," the name came out sounding more like a swear word than a name, "wanted him dead." 

He moved closer and used his hands to ease out the knotted muscles rather than his talent enjoying the feel of Ken’s sleek back even through his shirt. 

Ken grunted his appreciation. He'd been tense for days on end, even before the current mess had started, and the younger teen's hands worked wonders. It vaguely made him curious about why Naoe was so good at it, but he wouldn't ask if information wasn't being volunteered. 

“If he’s not prepared to be reasonable though it could kill us all. He’s imperative to Brad’s plans.” 

"Brad's plans," Ken repeated. "Which is for us to stay together and stay alive." He leaned into the hands, closing his eyes. 

A memory of other equally small hands on his shoulders snapped through his mind like the crack of a whip and he abruptly pulled away. "I'm sorry," he muttered and got to his feet. 

Nagi stood silently staring at his hands and wishing they were bigger, or less soft or anything other than like the hands of Takatori Mamoru. 

* * * * * * * 

Farfarello leaned back on the bed of the room he was sharing with Schuldig, shoulders braced against the headboard as he watched the German intently, admiring the man's sleek form. He never tired of watching the older man, never got bored just watching the play of emotion, his own and that of others, unknown strangers as the telepath sampled the minds of the world. 

" Brad really thinks this is going to work, us and Weiss?" he questioned softly, speaking English for a change. 

“I think…eventually he does,” Schuldig said thoughtfully. “I just hope he hasn’t got his visions in a knot! Balinese is being a pain in the ass, Siberian’s got you kicking the shit out of Bombay on constant replay and Singapura is still mooning over the little shit. Only Bengal is really co-operating and he’s scared shitless.” 

He tried again to sneak past Abyssinian’s mental defences but got no joy even though the other redhead was asleep in Balinese’s arms. He smirked. Looked like the fight was over for now. 

He smiled, an expression saved for Farfarello’s eyes only, and shrugged slightly. “Abyssinian seems to be thinking about it, at least.” 

"Thinking..." Farfarello repeated the word, the glint in his one golden eye showing that he, too, was considering something. 

"So what do you think our dear Vater is really up to? I mean honestly?" 

“I think he’s trying to hide us from Rosenkreuz and Weiss from Kritiker. We’re all under sentence of death, after all. What I don‘t know is where or when or why we need Abyssinian‘s sister.” 

"Without her how much cooperation do you honestly think we'd get from Abyssinian? He'd have gone off to get her and died for his efforts. Brad told me that much," the Irishman supplied, still watching his lover. 

"I'd be happier without any of them. They are disrupting our.." he grinned, "internal harmony." 

Schuldig nodded, face serious. “And Siberian has just upset Nagi. Stupid fucking idiot. He’s just like the others. Can’t get past our being on opposing sides even though it was the little Takatori who hurt him far more than any of us ever did. Ack! If he hurts Nagi I’ll kill the bastard myself!” 

The door opened and Crawford walked in, "No, Schuldig, you won't. In fact you'll do just the opposite. You'll try and comfort them both until they get over their pain. Understood?" 

The dark-haired man pushed his glasses up, the lenses glinting as he turned to regard Farfarello. "Under no circumstances are you to injure or otherwise cause harm to Kudoh. Understood?" 

Berserker frowned, "What have you seen this time?" 

“Ja, Vater, what hope do we have of winning over such obdurate fools?” 

"The same hope I had of winning you and Farfarello over when I chose both of you for my team," Crawford replied. He glanced at the door then stepped farther into the room. 

Nagi slid into the room then, no sign on his impassive countenance of the turmoil that Schuldig could feel within. 

Brad motioned Nagi to the other chair by Schuldig, but he remained where he was, standing by the door. 

"It is imperative that we win them over, by whatever means we need to employ." His hard gaze rested on Schuldig, "Balinese and Abyssinian will have another argument, you, Schuldig will follow our blond kitten when he storms out. He's going to get drunk and make a pass at you." 

Farfarello snarled and would have gone to kill the Weiss but Brad's glare stopped him dead in his tracks. He knew that look and when Brad had that particular expression, icy cold, dark eyes narrowed, a certain set to his mouth, Farfarello knew better than to push the American. They all did. 

"You, Farfarello, will permit whatever happens to happen. Understood?" 

Muttering curses in several languages Farfarello dropped back to the bed and sat glowering at their leader, burning fury whipping inside him like a bonfire whirlwind. His fists clenched and he raised his gaze to Schuldig, the look a mix of anger and desperate pleading. 

“Wait a goddamn minute! You want me to sleep with that dumkopf?” 

Schuldig was just as angry as Farfarello and he used his speed to cross the room and snarl in Brad’s face. “I’ve gone along with all you’ve said and done, Vater, but this time…I will not. Not only will it hurt Farf but it’ll also make for an extremely pissed off Abyssinian! Let Balinese pick up some whore instead.” 

The dark eyes narrowed further and a hand closed painfully in Schuldig's hair, the man yanking his head back, "I said pass, not fuck! I said he would be drunk, didn't I? Do you have any idea how many red-haired men Kudoh has fucked while pining for that bitch?" the American growled. There was rage in his eyes, even though his face showed very little. But the German could feel more, much more. Anger accompanied the sharp bite of fear leeching through the man's usually impenetrable shields. 

He shoved Schuldig backward, "Don't ever question me, Schuldig. Never. Understood?" he asked in a gentler tone. 

Crawford was visibly shaking at his effort to control the rage that had risen without warning inside him. He reached up, took off his glasses and made a great show of pulling a tissue from his pocket and cleaning them. 

"Let me reiterate this once again, for those of you too slow to comprehend it." He looked at all three of them, but his gaze stayed longest on Schuldig and Farfarello, "Without them we -all- die. All of us." His voice dropped to a soft murmur, "I haven't worked this long to keep the three of you alive to see any of you screw it up." 

He levelled his stare solidly on Schuldig, "Especially not you, Schu. I'm sorry, but we need them and..." he shook his head, "I can't be the one. It's not me any of them wants." There was something almost gentle in his expression, but the telepath couldn't read anything from him anymore, as if to make up for his lapse Brad had pulled the shields even tighter. 

"I wish it could be different." He put his glasses on and any trace of softness was gone as if it had never been there, the mask firmly back in place. "But we can't wish away our problems. Not yet anyway." 

Schuldig sighed and relaxed slightly. If he didn’t have to fuck Balinese he could do what Brad wanted. “So he makes a pass, what am I supposed to do apart from turn him down?” He wasn’t sure how any of this helped but Brad’s visions had never let them down before. It accounted for the smug side of his personality. 

"Humour him. Don't say no, but don't say yes. By the time you get him back up here he'll be too drunk to do anything. But guilt about what he thinks he did will give Abyssinian the leeway to play with Singapura." There was a bitter edge to Brad's voice. 

Farfarello didn't look very happy, "If he tries to fuck Schuldig..." 

"You'll do nothing. Nothing at all!" Brad snapped. 

Farfarello glowered but knew better than to argue. He didn't want to spend the next week in a drug induced haze as a punishment. 

"Now let me explain this to the three of you so you fully understand what we're holding in our hands." His measured gaze swept them all before he continued, "Abyssinian can move through time. I'm sure you can see how this might be a useful talent. Couple that with Balinese's ability act as a supercharger for any and all of us, and you can see the possibilities." 

He gave them a moment to let all of that sink in. "Siberian is a pyrokinetic. One who is just discovering his abilities. He wasn't born that way, but exposure to some of the chemicals and recombinant DNA in Masafumi's lab, coupled with the emanations of the Gate has altered him. Drastically. He doesn't realize it yet," Brad fixed his gaze on Nagi, "but he's going to need someone who understands what it feels like to be an outcast. Even more than he was before, Hidaka is outside the realm of normality and he won't be able to pretend anymore by hiding his pain playing soccer with children." 

"The girl is also of key importance. Have any of you wondered why the Elders chose her to be the one that the Leader would inhabit? 

"I'll clue you in, she won't age, and she can use that power on others. She can make a person who isn't immortal effectively live forever. 

"Do you see why we need them?" 

“Okay, I’ll let Balinese think he got further than he actually will,” Schuldig said before shooting a wan smile at Farfarello. “Why is it important for Abyssinian to play with Singapura, not that the kitty isn’t willing, but won’t it get a bit fraught? I‘m not even sure what use a shape changer is to us and if Balinese wants to kill him…” 

“Shut up, Schu!” Nagi spoke up for the first time before turning to Brad. “I have the problem of trust with Siberian right now, which is understandable. I’m just not certain how I’m going to get through that particular barrier.” 

Brad gave the youngest Schwarz a slight smile. "Let me address Schuldig first, then we'll move on to your problem." 

He frowned at the German, "Singapura is not a shape changer. He's a leopard human hybrid, and if you can't think of a reason for keeping him, let me clue you in that the human half is all Farfarello," Crawford stated. "He was made in an Essett lab, and was to be given to Reiji as a present from the Elders. Kritiker found the lab and they've brainwashed him into thinking he was raised by human parents.” 

"As far as needing Singapura, think of him as a pressure release valve for Abyssinian. Our red-haired kitten wants to play rough, and if he tries those games with Kudoh, it will get very ugly between them." 

For an instant the American's attention seemed to slip away, then he frowned, and spoke to Nagi, "You're doing fine, Nagi. Keep doing what you've been doing. He'll come around, unless something else gets between you, like a fight between Kudoh and Farfarello." He made eye contact with the Irishman, "I mean it. If you lift your hand against any of them, for any reason other than to protect one of us from an attack, I'll drug you into the sweet bliss of total oblivion." 

Farfarello continued to glower, but nodded acceptance. "I capitulate to your demand only because I don't want to be the reason my lover dies." 

"Smart move."


	14. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Nagi left the impromptu Schwarz meeting wondering how he was going to get Ken to trust him enough to confide in him. The suite had gone quiet and he suddenly realised just how late it was. Sighing quietly he headed for the room he shared with Ken. There was the sound of crackling within and then a muffled curse. 

The door burst open, emitting a billow of smoke and a frantic eyed Ken. "Fire extinguisher? Where?" 

Nagi gently nudged Ken to one side and smothered the smouldering bedclothes with his power. When the small fire was under control he turned sad yet accusing eyes on Ken. “Now do you understand why you need to learn how to shield your talent? You could have been burnt alive!” 

Ken nodded solemnly, "No shit..." he murmured staring at what remained of the bed in wide-eyed dismay. 

Rubbing sleep from his eyes Yohji peered into the hallway, "What's burning?" he asked, trying to stifle a yawn and failing. 

“Nothing…now,” Nagi told him. “Everything’s under control.” 

Aya appeared behind Yohji looking a lot more awake than his lover. “What was burning then?” he demanded. 

Nagi sighed. Soon he’d have Farf and Schu in the hallway too and then everyone else would arrive and Ken would feel even worse. “Ken had an accident with his bedclothes, that’s all,” he said reluctantly. 

Ken lowered his head in embarrassment. He wasn't even sure what had happened. He'd been asleep. Dreaming. But he couldn't even remember the dream now. 

Yohji sighed and backed out of the doorway, "I'm going back to sleep. Try not to burn anything else down, okay?" 

"Yeah. Sure. Sorry," Ken mumbled looking even more distraught. _Is it going to be like this all the time now? Me setting fire to stuff. It's worse than when I was a kid and wet the bed. At least I couldn't have killed anyone by peeing. But this... fuck..._

Farfarello peered out of the room he shared with Schuldig, saw the trails of fading smoke, Nagi and Ken and closed the door. The boy would handle this, that's what Crawford wanted. Though where the hell the American had gone with Bengal was anyone's guess. He hadn't said, and Farfarello hadn't asked. 

Aya gazed at them both for a moment, his violet eyes taking in Ken’s scorched pyjamas and Nagi’s frown, before nodding once and following Yohji back into his room and closing the door. 

Nagi let out a sigh of relief. At least none of them had made a scene. He turned to take a closer look at Ken and didn’t like what he saw. The athlete looked distraught, not merely embarrassed. “It doesn’t have to be this way, Ken,” he said. “I can teach you how to build mental shields so strong that they’ll cover even your dreams.” 

Ken touched the charred fabric covering him, feeling bits flake away and fall to the floor. "This isn't going to go away, is it?" he asked, voice barely audible. 

Nagi shook his head. “No. I’m sorry but it isn’t. Something happened to you in Masafumi’s labs and now you’re a pyrokinetic. You’re one of us, Ken. A talent and… an outsider. Mundanes will never regard you as one of them. Please, I know this is hard, but I can help you to train and use your talent and to shield yourself from more accidents. Will you let me help you?” 

He wasn’t sure that he’d been very tactful but then again Ken seemed to value honesty above tact and platitudes. He just hoped he’d said the right things. 

Ken just stood there in glum silence, staring into the room at the smoking ruin of the bed he'd been sleeping in without answering. After a few minutes he gave a mute nod and looked at Nagi. 

"I'm like you now. There's no going back. Not ever. So be it." He reached out and slipped an arm around Nagi, pulling the younger teen close and pressing a light, uncertain kiss on the telekinetic's mouth. 

Nagi’s arms wrapped round Ken in return and he responded to the kiss by opening his mouth slightly for Ken’s tongue to probe at will. 

With their own room turned into flambé, Ken picked the teen up and carried him down the hall to the smaller room where Singapura and Bengal were supposed to be sleeping. But he already knew that Bengal was gone with Brad, and Singapura had retreated to the living area. As he walked their mouths were still locked in a seeking, exploring kiss. 

Nagi’s arms moved until they settled round Ken’s neck. Part of him was surprised at the ease with which the athlete carried him but mostly he was proud of Ken’s strength and stamina. He stayed caught up in the kiss he had longed for until he found himself dumped on a bed with Ken sprawled next to him. 

Ken rolled onto his back, pulling Nagi on top of him. He liked the feel of the smaller teen's weight on top of him. He also knew that, in this position, groin to groin, there would be no mistaking what he was feeling. Or for that matter, what Nagi's reaction was. 

Nagi felt Ken’s erection through the material of his pyjamas and his own jeans and blushed as his body responded very eagerly indeed. He was so hard it hurt as his cock strained against the restricting cotton of his briefs. 

Ken's arms wrapped around the boy, holding him tightly without discomforting him. He slid his hands along the boy's body, in a slow but very self-assured caress before his hands found the buttons of Nagi's shirt. Fingers undid buttons with sure agility as his tongue sparred in a gentle wrestling match with Nagi's. 

Nagi wanted him, he could tell from the way the boy was reacting to his kisses. But a nagging doubt was nipping from the realm of his subconscious. What if this was just to move Crawford's plans along, and the boy was only going along with it for the sake of his leader? What if it isn't really you he wants? What if he's just following orders? 

But Ken realized he didn't care. He could look at the situation, consider that Nagi was only doing this because Oracle wanted him too, and not really mind it. At least it was an honest motive. One designed to help Schwarz win them over to their cause, whatever that really was. 

If it ended, ultimately, in betrayal, at least that would be familiar too, something he understood all too well. 

Ken broke off the kiss, hands moving to capture Nagi's face gently . He stared into the wide blue eyes, searching for any sign that the teen didn't want to be there, but he saw only desire. 

"Do you really want this? Be honest, please." 

Nagi took hold of one of Ken’s hands and laid it, palm down over his own rapidly beating heart. "I’ve wanted this for some time now, Ken. I admire your honesty and your refusal to compromise on that honesty. You’re the only guy I’ve ever truly wanted." 

Then he craned his neck upwards and met Ken’s lips with his own once more. If his words would not convince, perhaps the sincerity of his kiss might. 

Ken returned the kiss, still holding Nagi's face gently between his palms. His heart was beating as rapidly as Nagi's, his body filled with desire's warm golden glow. 

He broke the kiss, the brunet's gaze resting on the boy's face, seeking any trace of a lie, or dishonesty. But there was none, the blue eyes steady, focused on him squarely. 

"Me?" he laughed softly, "Why? When did you decide I was the one?" He actually blushed a little as he added, "Why me?" 

Nagi sighed just a little. "I already told you, Ken, because I admire and respect you. As for when, I’m not entirely sure. It just kinda snuck up on me." He smiled his rare smile and used his power to pull the charred remains of Ken’s pyjamas off of his body. He blushed slightly at sight of the well-defined muscles of Ken’s torso and legs and moved against them. 

Ken gave the teen a slow smile that was as sexy as anything Yohji could conjure up, but totally genuine without any of the blond's self-centred deliberateness. 

"Snuck up on you, did it?" He ran a hand through Nagi's hair, brushing it away from his face with the tenderness of long time lovers, or a new found one. 

"You know, I could decide I like this and then where will you be?" he whispered and lifted his head to brush his lips gently over Nagi's mouth, the kiss teasing. "I mean, I might decide to keep you, and then what?" 

Nagi cursed himself silently as he blushed again. This was so unlike him. Usually he was in full control of himself but Ken’s words made him feel like an untried virgin and sent butterflies coursing through his stomach. 

"I very much hope you do decide to keep me," he said when he felt he could speak without squeaking like a mouse. "I’d hate to think that you saw me just as a one-night stand." 

"Unlike a certain blond associate of mine, I don't believe in one night stands." He brushed his lips over Nagi's again in a tender kiss, his hands slipping down the telekinetic's body, the caress as light as the kiss. 

"I believe in love and commitment. What do you believe in, Nagi?" he asked softly, his lips moving across Nagi's teasing him as he spoke. 

Nagi’s eyes shut in pleasure but he managed to whisper, "I don’t know why, after all that’s happened to me, but I do believe in love." 

Ken rolled the boy beneath him and stared down at the teen's face. He regarded Prodigy silently, his expression solemn, gaze showing a war of emotion going on within him. 

"I want to believe..." he murmured, his head lowering to kiss Nagi again. "Help me believe, Nagi. Show me how to trust again. Please," the words came out strained, voice thick with emotion, tears glimmering in the dark eyes. 

A butterfly soft touch of his lips to Nagi's. "Please..." lips that trembled with barely suppressed emotion touched the boy's forehead, "help me believe..." a tear fell on Prodigy's cheek, "...in you." 

Nagi trembled slightly at the emotion that was palpable between them. "I’ll try, I promise," he said, his own voice quavering with emotion and desire. "Please, Ken, please make me yours. I’ll never leave you." 

Ken needed no other encouragement. He slowly unbuttoned Nagi's shirt, kissing the boy's body as he revealed it button, by button until he arrived at the last one. His tongue dipped moist and warm into Nagi's navel, while he slipped the shirt off of his young lover. 

Nagi’s head fell back and he moaned out his pleasure at the feel of Ken’s mouth on his chest and then dipping into his navel. His jeans and briefs were, by this time, almost impossibly tight and he used his power to unfasten the belt and pull down the zipper. He undid the button manually, too emotionally overloaded to manage that feat telekinetically right now. 

Sighing softly as the pressure on his aching cock was relieved he ran his hands over Ken’s tanned skin, tracing the muscle contours and urging his lover on. 

His lover. 

How strange that seemed yet how marvellous. He’d never really believed he had a chance with Ken, even Brad’s visions to the contrary leaving him unconvinced. And now here they were coming true. 

Ken looked at the slender body lying on the bed beneath him. 

Naoe Nagi. 

Prodigy. 

Enemy. 

But that was in the past. Lost, like Kase who'd been his lover. His friend. Like Omi who'd turned from his lover and friend to the Takatori in some sort of warped transformation that took a trusted love and changed them into someone you didn't know, didn't like... had to kill or go mad with grief. 

If Omi could become the Takatori. 

If an enemy could become a friend, a lover... 

Then he could transform too and become something other than that which he'd been. 

He lay down beside Nagi and pulled the teen close, kissing him, their cocks brushing lightly, adding to the need they both felt. 

"We forgot lube," he murmured. "But that's okay." 

His hand skimmed down Nagi's side, tickling over the soft skin of his ribs along his belly until the tips of his fingers brushed the precum dampened head of Nagi's cock. 

"Lube?" Nagi asked as if he’d never heard of the stuff. With what Ken was doing to him it wasn’t something he was particularly bothered about at this moment. He used what he could muster of his power to push off his jeans, briefs and sneakers before crushing his body against Ken’s, wanting to feel skin against skin from chest to feet. 

Ken smiled, "Anxious?" he asked before he kissed Nagi. Which was only an instant before his hand closed around Nagi's erection, the grip firm but not tight enough to hurt. 

Nagi’s body arched into the touch without him moving his mouth from Ken’s. This was so much better than his wildest fantasies or even touching himself had ever been. 

Ken rose up on one elbow and lowered his mouth to the juncture of Nagi's neck and shoulder, mouth closing on warm flesh, tongue rolling over the sensitive skin as he slowly stroked Nagi's cock. 

It was slightly surreal, a dreamlike quality closing around his mind. 

But he knew it wasn't a dream. It was real. 

And he wanted Nagi's words to be real too, with a desperation that made him shudder, not from desire, but from the deep desire to be needed by... someone anyone. 

No one else needed him. No one. 

And he was so tired of being alone. 

As if reading Ken’s thoughts, Nagi’s hands snaked round the brunette’s neck as he exposed his throat to him, much like an animal giving in to stronger competition. 

For a moment Ken kissed and nibbled the exposed flesh before he began to explore farther a field. He kissed his way back down Nagi's body enjoying the illusion of fragility the boy gave off. No, his body wasn't powerful, but his mind more than made up for that. 

Ken felt a little thrill of danger. Nagi could kill him if he chose. But the boy wasn't a killer. 

Not like him or the rest of them. Killers all. 

He frowned, but continued his roaming exploration until he reached the point where a hard cock jutted up from a tangle of dark curls. 

He gave Nagi no warning. No indication of his intention before he took the entirely of Nagi's cock into his mouth, sucking slowly, as if Nagi's flesh were a treat to be savoured. 

Nagi writhed and thrashed and almost screamed out Ken’s name. The intensity of the feelings running through his body and coalescing in his groin were almost more than he could bear. 

He took deep, panting breaths, trying hard not to come too quickly but it was so difficult with that delicious moist warmth sucking on his cock. 

Ken stopped what he was doing to say, "Just let it happen Nagi. We can do this as much and whenever you want," he reassured. 

Nagi gulped in air, his dark blue eyes wide. "We can?" he managed. 

"Yeah," Ken agreed. "Whenever you want." 

He engulfed Nagi's cock fervently working the flesh, wanting to feel Nagi lose control, wanting the taste of the telekinetic's cum on his tongue. 

"Ken… I’m sorry… gonna come," Nagi moaned disjointedly just before he spurted into Ken’s willing mouth. He didn’t scream out when it happened. Instead he whispered Ken’s name like it was a prayer. 

The brunet swallowed and then sat up, taking Nagi into his arms and just holding him close, something fierce and protective welling up inside of him, face buried in the boy's dark hair, tears spilling from his eyes. 

"Ken…no…please don’t cry," Nagi whispered. "I’m not going anywhere. I…" But Ken wouldn’t believe what Nagi was feeling for him so the telekinetic didn’t say anymore, merely curling into Ken’s embrace. 

Ken's fingers touched Nagi's lips, stilling them before sliding along the curve of his neck to tilt his head back so that he could kiss him. 

After the kiss he stared into Nagi's eyes, face streaked with tears and said, "I want to love you, Nagi. Can I trust you that much?" 

And then he could say it. "I already do love you, Ken. Which means I’ll do anything for you." 

He didn't say anything, but Ken's embrace tightened and he lay down on the bed, holding the boy close. 

It was something that neither Kase nor Omi had ever said. Three simple words that only Yuriko and he had shared. Yuriko, the one who'd never betrayed him. 

I love you, she'd whispered into the darkness after they'd made love. 

He'd answered, I love you too. 

Ken closed his eyes, a smile lingering on his lips. He didn't know why, but he believed Nagi and that was all the release he needed for the moment. 

* * * * * * * 

Zeshin listened. But there was nothing to hear, everyone was peacefully asleep except Oracle and Bengal who'd left a few hours ago. 

With no one watching him, no one to stop him, the temptation became too great. 

He had to know. Had to have confirmation. 

Quiet as a ghost's dream, he put on his boots and slipped out of the hotel suite. 

He needed a phone and just a few precious minutes alone to make the call. 

There was no one in the hallway as he made his way to the elevator and pressed the call button. 

There had to be a phone downstairs, either in the lobby or near the shops. 

Aya climbed back into bed with Yohji but sleep was now eluding him. Something was playing in the back of his mind, something important but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was. He tossed and turned for a while, careful not to wake the blond, but still could not bring the wayward unease to the surface of his thoughts. It wasn’t until he heard Ken and Nagi disappear into the room that Bengal shared with Singapura that it hit him. 

Bengal was with Crawford, Ken and Nagi’s room was a wreck so where the hell was Singapura? 

He slid out of the bed and dressed as silently as he could before heading into the living room on the off chance that Zeshin might be on the couch. There was no sign of the silver-haired Weiss so he quietly left the suite and called the elevator. 

Zeshin found a phone near one of the shops in the lobby. He pulled out a credit card he'd kept hidden in the lining if his mission coat. A Kritiker funded card. He started to dial, amber eyes closed as he called up the numbers from memory and pushed the buttons by touch. 

Only to have the receiver snatched out of his hand by a furious Aya. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" 

Amber eyes snapped open, but there was something strange about the way he looked at the older Weiss. Almost as if a stranger had taken control of his body. 

Mouth twisting in a snarl, the boy rammed his fist into Aya's belly and bolted away, going from stationary to a full out run in a matter of a few quick strides. 

Aya doubled over clutching his bruised stomach. Fury gathered in him, feeding his almost dormant talent and he deliberately used it to slow Zeshin down. 

While it did slow Zeshin down, the effect wasn't as pronounced as anyone who understood Aya's power would have expected. The younger killer was still moving at a good clip, just no faster than a normal human being could have managed which was not what he'd been doing before the time distortion hit him. 

Cursing softly, Aya staggered after him until he reached the point where he could ignore the pain as his mission focus kicked in then he began to run in earnest, this time using his power to speed himself up by pushing himself forward through time. Using this method, he soon began to gain on Zeshin. 

The boy bolted out of the hotel into the pool area. At this time of night it, and the lush gardens surrounding it were deserted. 

With nowhere left to run he turned at bay, amber eyes slits of rage, hands lifting in a defensive position as he dropped into a fighting stance. 

Aya came to a halt several feet away brows raised. "Why do you want to fight me, Zeshin?" he asked. "Aren’t we supposed to be on the same side?" 

He took a slow step forward, much as one would with a frightened animal. "What makes you so desperate to contact Kritiker?" 

"Side?" the boy frowned. "I'm supposed to kill you for Mamoru. I... have to let him know I... failed..." 

The boy shook his head, silver hair gleaming like spun glass in the dim light. "Mamoru..." 

Snarling he launched himself at Aya, fingers curled and locked into a form that was called the 'claw of the tiger' in some martial arts forms. 

Aya sidestepped at the last minute and sucker punched the infuriated boy in the kidneys as his momentum carried him past. 

He spun on the ball of one foot, balanced and ready for whatever his ‘team mate’ would try next. "Mamoru is dead," he snapped. 

The boy staggered from the force behind the punch, but otherwise didn't appear to be affected. He whirled to face Aya, eyes turned to slits of burning rage. 

This time he came in fast, using fists and feet in a flurry of kicks, slashing movements of his fingers that alternated with punches. 

And met thin air. Aya, having read the moves, jumped through a second of time to come up behind Zeshin and get an arm round his neck in a vicelike grip. He tightened his hold until the boy was gasping for air, his movements slowed by the lack of oxygen. 

Desperate, Zeshin flailed behind him, clawing at the other man, nails tearing along Aya's neck, drawing blood. 

"Stop it," Aya snarled as he grabbed a flailing arm with his free hand and twisted it up behind Zeshin’s back. "Keep still or I’ll break your fucking arm!" He let go of the boy’s neck but instead grabbed his other arm and pinned it to his side. 

"What the fuck has gotten into you?" He pulled a loop of cord out of that coat of many pockets and tied Zeshin’s wrists together before pushing the boy to his knees. 

Zeshin stopped fighting as soon as he was on his knees. It was as if someone had turned off a switch. He knelt there breath coming in ragged gasps his gaze unfocused. 

Aya walked round him to stare down at him. One hand reached down to lift his chin until their eyes met. "I want an explanation, Singapura, and I want it now." 

Dull amber eyes stared up at him, no sign of comprehension in his expression. 

By now Aya had really started to worry. His sense of unease from earlier returned in spades and he glanced around before hauling Zeshin to his feet and back into the hotel. 

He pushed the younger man into the elevator and pressed the button for their floor. Easier to watch Zeshin away from prying eyes. 

The boy remained passive, following Aya's guidance with no sign of resistance. 

The elevator came to a jolting halt between floors, the lights flickering, dimming and going out for a brief moment. 

When they came back on, the pair of Weiss were no longer alone in the elevator. A slim blond man was standing there, regarding Aya with cool blue-grey eyes that had little of humanity in them. 

"Finally I meet Abyssinian, bane to the Elders," the blond said. Even though he was right there in the elevator facing Aya, his voice sounded distant. 

Aya’s eyes narrowed. "And you are…?" he demanded, voice cold. 

"Oh, no one you know. Not yet anyway." 

He favoured the boy in Aya's grip with a cool smile, "Pretty isn't he? Like poisonous moonlight. You can't trust their kind. Not unless you've got them programmed properly. But he never was, more's the pity." 

Aya’s frown deepened into a glare. "His kind? What exactly is that supposed to mean? And you make him sound like a robot or computer with your talk of programming. What exactly is he?" 

He knew that Kritiker had lied, time and time again, but he needed to know what he was dealing with in Zeshin. If this…emanation could tell him that this meeting would have some use. 

"The product of a Rosenkruez lab. And a very successful lab it proved to be, until your organization ruined it." The man reached out as if he wanted to touch Zeshin, but he didn't quite make contact, his hand pulling away. " Human and snow leopard. Berserker's genetic material proved particularly useful for the experiment. Too bad he's the only one left. 

"As to his... programming. Well you'd call it brainwashing," he gave a broken glass smile, "Rosenkruez is good at that sort of thing. Very good. Ask Oracle. He knows exactly how well they can turn someone into a tool. How much better would they be at it with a tool they themselves created? 

"But Kritiker ruined it all, and took the best one of the lot. They erased most of the programming, but not all of it. No, not all." 

The pale eyes met Aya's, "But enough pleasantries. I have a message for Oracle. Tell him he has twenty-four hours to reconsider his position. It's the last offer to..." the sharp edged smile returned, "return to the fold he will receive. If he refuses the offer..." the man shook his head, "Well the outcome won't be pleasant for you, and it will be even worse for Schwarz." 

His gaze went to Zeshin again, "So pretty..." 

The lights flickered off and when they returned the blond was gone. 

Aya shivered despite himself and glanced at Zeshin. If Rosenkreuz could manipulate him so easily… 

* * * * * * * 

In his room, curled round Farfarello, Schuldig jerked awake his blue eyes wide and filled with horror. "Nein," he whispered. "Gott bitte, nein!" 

Farfarello came instantly awake, a knife gripped in his fist as if it had materialized from thin air. 

"Was?" he asked his lover, speaking in German. From the sound of Schuldig's voice something was very wrong and it wasn't likely he'd respond to anything but German for the moment. 

"Phantasm," Schuldig gasped out. "He was here, or an emanation was. Mein Gott! They’ve found us!" 

"How close is he? Is Brad back yet?" Farfarello asked as he pulled on some clothing. "We should wake everyone and get them ready to move." 

Schuldig’s blue eyes had glazed over in his terror. Of all the agents Rosenkreuz could have sent, Phantasm was the most dangerous. "It’s too soon," he whispered, "we haven’t even started to train Abyssinian or Balinese yet." He turned to look at Farfarello. "There’s nowhere to run to, Farf. Nowhere to go where we can be safe. Not until we can use Abyssinian’s talent." 

Farfarello crawled back into bed with his panicked lover. He slapped the older man, just hard enough to snap him out of his fear, "Listen to me," he grated, "Brad needs us thinking clearly, not running like rabbits from a fox!" he grabbed Schuldig by the arm and shook him, "Shields, damnit! You're letting him in, Schuldig! Don't give him power over you!" 

With an effort of will Schuldig raised his mental shields until he felt them snap into place. "Go and see if Brad is back yet," he said, sounding much more like his normal self. "I’ll go and check on Abyssinian and Singapura. No telling what the bastard may have done to them." 

Farfarello gripped Schuldig's chin between scarred fingers, "Don't forget who you are! You are Mastermind and you are every bit as powerful as any of them are. Remember that!" he told his lover then pressed his lips to Schuldig's in a fierce kiss. 

The Irishman broke the kiss and slipped off the bed with his usual grace. He paused only long enough to toss Schuldig some clothing. "Brad isn't back yet. He'd have come to get us to help with the gear. I'll go check on Ken and Nagi," he said as he left the room. 

When Schuldig entered the living room to go and find Aya and Zeshin, he found a glassy eyed Yohji sitting on the couch, holding a smouldering cigarette between shaking fingers. 

He ignored him and headed straight for the elevator just as it pinged and the doors slid open. Abyssinian stepped out dragging a bound but unresisting Zeshin with him. Blue eyes met pale violet in a split second of understanding before Abyssinian pushed Zeshin forward into the living room. 

Schuldig followed him, his fear giving way to curiosity as to what Balinese’s reaction would be. Abyssinian pushed Zeshin into a chair before turning to face his lover. 

Yohji looked up at Aya, eyes dark, haunted. He picked up his pack of cigarettes and tried to light one from the dimming cherry of the first one which he'd smoked down to the filter. His hands were shaking so badly he could hardly get the new smoke lit. 

Zeshin sank to the living room floor, just as blank-eyed as he'd been since Aya had tied him up. 

Schuldig stared at the construct, suddenly realising who the Terror group had used to infiltrate. His eyes narrowed. Cat-boy was more damned trouble than he was worth. He glanced from Zeshin to Aya who was frowning at Yohji. 

"You okay?" he asked the swordsman. 

Aya glanced up. "He didn’t harm me, if that’s what you mean. I need to speak to Crawford." 

Yohji's gaze had been fastened on Aya. He suddenly blinked, put the cigarette down, and bolted out of the chair, dropping to his knees in front of Aya, his hands going to his lover's neck and the seeping blood he could see. "You're hurt," he said as he tried to get a better look at the claw marks. 

Jade eyes narrowed, "I'll kill the little shit!" he snarled, grabbing Zeshin, He was ready to do murder from the expression on his face. 

"Balinese! You will not harm him!" Aya’s tone was that usually reserved for missions. "He had no control over what he was doing and he doesn’t deserve to die for a mere scratch." 

Schuldig wasn’t so sure about that but he wisely stayed out of what could easily be another fight between the two eldest Weiss kitties. 

"I seem to recall you wanted to kill him for hurting me," Yohji replied. The expression on his face was odd. Harder and colder than any of them had seen him outside of a mission, and even then there was something slightly-- off-- about the look. 

Snarling he shoved the boy aside and snatched up his cigarette. "Fine, go fuck him if that's what you want, just leave me out of your games!" the blond snapped as he stalked into the kitchen. 

Farfarello came into the living room and paused, watching the lanky blond storm off, the eyebrow over his one eye raised. He glanced at Schuldig and frowned. 

Schuldig sighed, his sympathies lying with Kudoh over this one. As far as he was concerned Zeshin was a liability but the decision over the cat boy’s future was Brad’s to make. Not his. Not Kudoh’s. 

Aya remained still, eyes downcast and Schuldig had the impression that he was deep in thought. As ever, though, those thoughts were completely shielded. 

Farfarello crouched down and looked at the boy, touched his frosty silver hair. "I think I understand why Brad wants to keep him," he stated quietly. "Part of him is me." 

Aya looked up at that. "That’s what that….thing in the elevator said. That Rosenkreuz created him using some of your genetic material and some from a snow leopard. Part of me thinks he should die but I’ll wait for Crawford’s verdict." 

Schuldig’s brows rose at Aya‘s words. It looked like one kitty at least was seeing sense at long last. 

Farfarello frowned. "I don't want him dead," he stated, grabbing a handful of the boy's hair and lifting his head so that Schuldig could look at the boy's face. "Look at him Schuldig. His eyes are my eyes." 

The door opened and Crawford came striding in, his arms weighed down with a large duffle bag. "Pack. We're relocating. I have a house." 

His gaze shot to the German, "Help Kudoh. Nightmare has taken a walk in his mind." 

Then he was dumping the duffle on the couch his gaze locked on Aya, "Phantasm spoke to you?" 

Schuldig sighed but disappeared into the kitchen in search of Yohji, while Farfarello went looking for the others to get them packing. Aya waited until they’d all left the room before raising his eyes to Brad’s. 

"Yes," he said simply. "He told me a little about Singapura then said that you have twenty-four hours to return to the fold or none of us will like the consequences." 

Brad nodded, "Nothing less than I expected, just much more quickly than I foresaw." 

He dropped into a chair by the red-head, "You understand that if we don't work together we will die, correct?" 

"It wasn’t that hard to work out," Aya said calmly before he inclined his head towards Zeshin. "What about him? He was the link they used to reach me." 

Crawford glanced at the boy and shrugged, "He's in a blank state, he's harmless now. Whatever they did to him, it erased what was left of the brainwashing." He reached over and stroked the boy's hair. The only reaction it got was a rumbling purr. "He's gone back to the animal side of himself because there is nothing else left." 

He gave Aya a faint smile, "In this case they've done us a favour. Schuldig can help you make him human again. Just decide what you want him to be, and have Schuldig go into his mind and make it so." 

Aya swallowed hard. What he wanted Zeshin to be? He wanted him to be free of both Takatori and Rosenkreuz but beyond that he wanted… 

He stood up suddenly, discomforted by his own desires. No wonder Yohji wanted to kill Zeshin when he wanted… 

Visions and fantasies swamped his mind and he growled like an animal. At that moment he felt like one. 

"I can’t choose for him," he said, "but… he should be given a will of his own. He shouldn’t just be some kind of tame pet." 

He crossed the room to where Zeshin still sat motionless and untied the cord. “And yet…“ he whispered almost to himself. “And yet he looks so beautiful bound.” 

Crawford stood, glanced toward the kitchen, and 'saw' that Yohji would not be arriving in the living room any time soon. He moved in close to Aya and lowered his head to whisper, "So would you," as his arm slipped around the red-head's waist. 

"Don't move, just listen. You have to be the one to make the choice for him. No, he can't be a pet alone, he has to stand on his own two feet and be an asset to us.” 

"But... he can be what you want too. Yours to do with as you want. You won't get what you need from Kudoh. Not everything you crave. Balinese can't give you those things and you know it." 

His breath was warm on Aya's neck as he added, "There's a lot he can't give you, and some of it..." he laughed softly and let his arm fall away, "only I could show you. Think about it." 

Aya’s eyes widened as Crawford spoke. The man made some tempting offers, even the last one had its merits but then there was the problem of Yohji and his own feelings for the blond. Irritating though he might be at times, Kudoh was all he had left. 

But that wasn’t quite right, was it? Ken was still here and both Bengal, who he was beginning to trust, and Singapura had made it so far. And even Aya-chan was here and not disgusted by what he’d become. 

Then there was Schwarz. Nagi had earned his respect and trust with his careful and obviously heartfelt regard for Ken’s problems, Schuldig was similar to Yohji in that he could be as irritating as fuck, but he’d kept Farfarello from harming any of them. As for the Irishman, he wasn’t nearly as insane as they’d believed and had even shown some affection for Zeshin. Crawford was trying to save them all at the risk of his own health. 

Did he really need Yohji and all his problems at all? 

"It's up to you, Fujimiya. For once in your life you get to make all the choices here," Brad whispered, his voice a seductive purr of sound. 

His own guilt made him turn on Crawford. “What about his choices?” he asked waving an arm in the general direction of Zeshin. “Or Yohji’s? Stop playing your power games for once and see us as human beings!” 

"But you see, Aya, we aren't _human_! None of us is _human_!" Crawford shot back harshly. "And if you don't make a choice for that boy, he will stay an animal!" 

Crawford looked Aya up and down, his gaze showing that he found the younger man wanting in his estimation. "Go pack, we're leaving in an hour." 

And with that the American walked away toward his room. 

“Crawford wait,” the words were torn from Aya’s throat. “You’re right. I apologise.” 

He bowed slightly to the American before going to the room he shared with Yohji to pack. 

Alone in his room, Crawford allowed himself a pleased smile. 

_Yes, I think we will be fine._


	15. Barrel of a Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Schuldig followed Yohji into the kitchen and came to a halt in the doorway. They didn’t have time for a protracted drinking session which would be the easy option so he headed for the coffee machine with a slight sigh. “You want some?” he asked. 

The blond shook his head, his back to the German. "No. Thanks but..." He shuddered visibly and took another drag off his cigarette. 

He stared into the sink, but that wasn't what he was seeing. In his mind's eye he could clearly see Aya writhing in pleasure under Crawford, the American's face alight with passion as he pounded into the red-head. 

Yohji closed his eyes and told himself yet again it was only a dream, it wasn't real, Aya... would never let the Schwarz leader fuck him. 

But it had been so real, as if he were watching it from beside the bed. So real that the scent of Crawford's cologne still tickled his nostrils and he could smell Aya's shampoo. 

"Gods... I don't want to lose him..." he whispered brokenly, not even aware he'd spoken out loud. 

Schuldig decided against the coffee. They didn’t have the time. Instead he perched on the counter and took a deep breath. 

“The guy that forced Zeshin to attack Aya tonight and approached him in the elevator is part of a team called Terror. One of their operatives, Nightmare, has the ability to twist dreams. I’m guessing that’s what has happened to you.” 

“If we’re to escape with our lives, we have to take on this team. So I need to sort out the damage that Nightmare has done to you.” 

"Nightmare," the blond repeated the name, thinking about the images drifting through his mind. 

Yohji raised his head and looked over his shoulder at Schuldig. "You want in my head?" He could still see the dream he had playing in his mind. 

He turned around and held out his hand, "Do it. I can't live with this in my head." 

Schuldig nodded, knowing only too well the way dreams could be twisted by certain kinds of telepathy and some empaths. He’d had first hand experience of it during his own training. 

He entered Kudoh’s head as gently as he could and immediately saw the dream. Oh boy! No wonder the blond was in such a state, especially as this dream might even come to pass one day. Nightmare had set the damned thing like a tape loop running over and over again in Kudoh’s mind. 

Schuldig erased the dream completely. Best for Kudoh if he had no memory of it at all. 

When it was over, Yohji tried to step away from the German and almost fell, one hand landing on Schuldig's shoulder to steady himself as he swayed, dizzy from what had just been done. 

Brilliant green eyes met crystal blue. "You know, I never noticed it before, but you have beautiful eyes." 

Here it came. 

“Danke, mein Freund,” Schuldig said. He wanted to add, but I’m already taken and so are you, but he remembered Brad’s instructions just in time. 

Yohji sank back against the counter, his head lowering, shoulders starting to shake, "I know it was just..." he shook his head, stopped speaking, took a long breath and let it out slowly. "He wants things I can't give him. I can see it when he looks at Zeshin. This... hunger." 

Yohji gave a bitter laugh, mocking himself. "The great lover Kudoh Yohji, womaniser and murderer. But you know what, Schuldig?" he met the telepath's gaze, "He scares me more than Farfarello ever will. Scares me to the bottom of my soul because there's something in his eyes, something... dark and cruel and I don't want to see that in his eyes when he's looking at me." 

Now Schuldig understood why Brad had told him to accept the pass and talk to Kudoh. The gold kitty had suddenly realised that Aya had a streak of sadism that he couldn’t pander to as an alpha male. 

“Do you love him?” he asked after a few moments of thought. He could have dug the answer out of Yohji’s mind but, if there was ever to be trust between them, he had to do this without his talent/curse. 

"I love him so much it hurts, Schuldig..." he sighed, shrugged and looked away hiding the raw pain in his gaze, but it didn't hide the feeling of defeated sorrow coming from him. "What can I do? I can see it won't work out between us." 

He closed his eyes to keep the tears in check, "I... thought I could do this. I thought I could make it work, do what he wanted but..." 

Schuldig reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to Yohji before lighting his own. 

Yohji took the offered cigarette and stared at it as if he'd never seen one, “I knew he was repressing his sexual desires, and I've kept my feelings for him locked up for years.” 

"What he wants and what I can give him fall short of what he needs, and go farther than I can handle. So here we are. We're lovers, but we're at odds. I want to tie him up and make him my toy, but that's what he expects of me. For me it's nothing serious, I can live without it. I don't think he can." 

“Because he wants to do precisely the same to you.” It wasn’t a question. On his few trips into Aya’s mind, Schuldig had taken the opportunity to see what made the other redhead tick. He’d received quite a few surprises and that had been before the interest in Singapura as a toy. 

“The idea freaks you out because he scares you when he’s cold and cruel. I think you’re in love with Ran rather than Aya and he can never be Ran again. Your friends at Kritiker saw to that.” 

Time to tell Yohji some truths. “His first team turned on each other, did you know that? He was betrayed by both his first lover and his sword master. He knew about betrayal before you and Hidaka learned that particular lesson and he found out at a much younger age.” 

"I heard rumours inside Kritiker about that." 

Yohji lit the cigarette he'd been holding, took a long drag and studied Schuldig. "Look, none of us have all our oars in the water, and I think you know which pieces of my puzzle have gone missing," he began. "I don't know Ran. I never have known Ran because he was dead before he reached Weiss. What I didn't realize is we both have a few of the same pieces missing. I should have seen it, I really should have." 

He took another drag from the cigarette, exhaled the smoke in a thin stream. "Okay, let me rephrase that. I did see the twists, but chose to ignore how deep they were in favour of thinking I could make it work. Gods, I do love him, every cold, violet glaring, bitchy snarl, alabaster skinned inch of him." 

The blond's voice broke and he made a great show of flicking ashes into the sink, mouth twisted into a pained imitation of a smile while unshed tears sparkled like broken glass in his eyes. “I think if we try to be lovers someone is going to wind up dead. Maybe Zeshin," his expression became even more bitter, "maybe me." 

“Yes, he is beautiful,” Schuldig said thoughtfully as he gazed at the lit end of his cigarette, “but then most poisonous snakes are beautifully marked. In fact, when you think about it, all predatory animals are beautiful.” 

He glanced up then, straight into sad, green eyes. “I don’t think he would ever deliberately hurt you but if you tried to tame him he would turn on you. You said it yourself, Kudoh, in a gay relationship you need to be the top. You’re not comfortable enough with that side of your sexuality to be anything else.” 

"You hit the mark, Schuldig. I'm not comfortable with it." He watched curls of smoke rise in the air, then added, "I think part of my problem is that I don't have the same urges with women that I have with men. I don't tie women up and want to hurt them. Not even a little. And it's not like I have the desire to go fuck guys left and right either. I want Aya. 

"But with Aya, what I want is very different than my normal sexual needs. Probably because I associate him with danger and I want the rush of controlling a dangerous creature. Like you said, he's a predator, a beautiful one, and I want him to be mine in ways he can't accept." 

“Aya can be bottom simply because he is fully and contentedly gay. Women don’t interest him the way they do you. But he’s not by nature a bottom and you’re too afraid to truly ever be one and enjoy it.” 

"Again true." Yohji ran his hands through his tangled hair, "It's like I'm two people, the man that dated half the women in Tokyo, and this guy that can't get enough of a man named Aya." He considered it a moment, "I think if I’d never met him I'd have kept fucking women and not worrying about the other side of me." 

A thought occurred to Schuldig and he wondered if he dared voice it. Then again… “If you’re in love with his personality, you could do worse than get to know his sister better.” 

Yohji frowned. "His sister? Hell Schuldig you do want me to die, don't you?" the blond asked. "He'd tear my heart out with his bare hands for even thinking about her like that. I'm not sure I could either. I mean... she's just a kid. Besides, he made me promise no more women if I wanted to be his lover. I agreed so that'd be two reasons to rip my heart out." 

Schuldig sighed as he did a bit of mental math. Yep, that was right. “She might look like a kid, Kudoh, but she’s nineteen. And who better to take care of her than you? He trusts you. I don’t think you can make it as lovers but you still have a very deep friendship based on trust. I don’t think you’ll ever lose that.” 

"Probably not. But she is his kid sister and no matter how old she gets that fact won't change. If I so much as look at her the way I'd look at a woman you can bet he'll be talking to me from the end of a katana." 

He glanced at his watch and frowned. Time was against them in this particular tete a tete. “We need to pack and get out of here.” 

"Yeah, well I never unpacked," the blond remarked as he tossed the remains of his cigarette into the sink. 

He hesitated then looked at Schuldig and said very softly, "Thanks, Schuldig. You aren't such a prick after all." 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford pushed his glasses up and reached into the duffle, handing Farfarello a batch of knives of varying sizes, including one that was more properly a short sword than a knife. 

The Irishman pulled it from the sheath and studied his own reflection in the well polished metal. A finger stroked along the edge and he grinned at the blood that welled up in the cut. 

"Nice. Very nice." 

"I'm glad they meet with your approval," the American said dryly before handing the man a .44 semi-automatic pistol. "Just in case they bring a few low power goons." 

Farfarello nodded. 

Schuldig emerged from the kitchen and went to receive his own gun from Brad’s hands before disappearing into his bedroom to pack the last of his belongings. 

Aya, who never had unpacked, stood to one side, arms folded as he thought about Brad’s offers from earlier. Zeshin submissive and his to toy with was a very tempting thought but Yohji would not be able to share him with the cat-boy. And then there had been the last offer… “I could show you.” 

Aya shuddered slightly as he thought about what Crawford might be able to show him. Strange how being at the American’s mercy didn’t freak him out the way the thought of being Yohji’s toy did. 

Then it hit him. Much as he loved Yohji, he couldn’t respect the blond outside of missions. To Yohji, he was their leader and that was how the blond treated him outside of a bed. 

Did that mean that he respected Crawford? He supposed, if he was honest with himself, that he did. The American had pushed himself to the point of ill health to save his team. 

Brad caught Farfarello's attention and motioned for the Irishman to take a walk with nothing more than the tilt of one eyebrow. 

Glancing from Brad to the fiery-haired kitten he picked up his new toys and vanished into the room he'd been sharing with Schuldig. 

Brad frowned and glanced at the kitchen as Yohji drifted in, paused to smile at Aya, and then disappeared into the room the two Weiss had been sharing. 

A flicker of sight showed Yohji standing under a tree, tears flowing from his eyes. From the vision he caught the corner of the house he'd just purchased and knew that what he'd seen would happen shortly. 

He also knew that, much as he desired Aya, he would have to take it slow or risk losing the blond. The man was unstable and so much hinged on how well he accepted his own flaws and dealt with the rejection of his lover. 

"Have you been considering my offer?" Brad asked softly, not ready to have Yohji know about this additional betrayal of his lover. 

Aya glared at Brad but nodded. “With regard to Mitsuwa, yes.” He glanced at Zeshin still crouching on the floor, eyes vacant. “He should keep the name he knows but I want his memories of that Takatori shit or Rosenkreuz gone.” 

He shivered as a wave of lust went through his body. “I want him loyal to me.” 

Brad smiled. "Good. And about the other thing I mentioned. Are you considering that too?" He pulled a Heckler & Koch .45 automatic pistol out of the bag and turned it in his hands. It felt good. He pulled out the shoulder harness and removed his jacket preparatory to putting the shoulder rig on. 

The American took a step closer to Aya, "Will you be loyal to me?" he asked softly, lowering his head just enough that his warm breath stirred one of Aya's eartails. 

"I'm not like him, you know. Pain doesn't bother me," he whispered. "It's like spice, it makes it everything feel better." 

Another shiver coursed through Aya’s body but all he said was, “I will not leave Yohji. He needs me too much right now.” 

"I know," Crawford replied. 

He gripped Aya's chin in his hand and made the Weiss look up at him, "But we both know he's not what you need." The dark eyes met Aya's violet ones. "You'll tear him apart no matter what you do, Aya, unless..." 

“Unless?” 

"Unless you let him go." Brad slid his fingers though Aya's hair, "Yohji still loves women, Aya. He'll find a solution right here under his nose. One I don't think even you've considered." 

His sister! Kami-sama, why hadn’t he thought about that earlier? His possessive nature made him long to deny the very idea. Yohji was a fucked-up, alcoholic killer, not good enough for Aya-chan. 

_But good enough for you…_

And then another thought came. For all the blond’s faults, he trusted Yohji with his life so why not that of his sister? She must be lonely after all. Could he really condemn her to a life of celibacy and loneliness? 

Ken would have been better for her but Ken was gay and Yohji… wasn’t. At least not completely. 

Aya sighed. “He’d better not hurt her,” he said aloud. 

The hand slid through Aya's hair again, the touch a lover's caress. "He needs someone like her to make him whole, to mend his shattered soul. And without that, he's going to die. I think you are as fully aware of that as I am. I can see the future, Aya. And I've seen Kudoh dead in our future. Dead because you can't give him what he really needs anymore than he can give you what your soul craves." 

Voice gone to a velvet whisper, Brad said, "You have to let him go." 

Aya nodded, but pulled away from Brad’s hand. “Did you get me a gun or will my katana be sufficient?” he asked, all business once more. 

His gaze fell on Zeshin again. “And what about him? Doesn’t he need to function right now?” 

Brad slipped into the shoulder harness for his own pistol, "Yes. But what needs to be done isn't something that should be carried out where everyone can see it. Take him to Schuldig. He needs to have at least a partially functional semblance of humanity before we leave here." 

He adjusted the shoulder rig, "You're doing the best thing for them both, Aya." His mouth twisted in a peculiar hint of a smile, "And really, we do need to start calling you Ran. It will be confusing in a tight situation otherwise." 

“Ran is dead,” Aya said flatly, “leave him buried with Kikyou, Shion and Tsukiyono Omi. If you need to avoid confusion use my codename.” 

He crossed the room and lifted an unresisting Zeshin to his feet, both of them disappearing into Schuldig’s room. 

Brad's glasses flashed and he allowed himself a pleased chuckle. Gordian knot time not withstanding, they were already making good progress toward becoming a team. 

And he was a step closer to having the red-head where he wanted him. Moaning in passion right in Brad's own bed. 

Smiling to himself he straightened his tie and reached out for the German. *Get that genetic experiment from hell thinking like a person again and let's get the fuck out of here, Schuldig. 

*We've got work to do.* 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig was smirking as Aya entered his room with Zeshin in tow. Brad’s mental voice had been both smug and businesslike. More like his old, demonic self. He wiped the smile off his face as Aya glared and tried to look ready for duty. 

Zeshin sank quietly to the floor at Aya's feet the instant they stopped walking. He didn't look right or left, didn't look at any of them, or seem to be aware of much at all really, his motions more those of an automaton, a thing, than those of a person or animal. 

“Have you decided what you want?” Schuldig asked. 

Aya nodded. “The name he’s used to, including any and all nicknames except those that Takatori might have used. Complete loyalty to me, a…respectful personality, intelligence and no recollection of either Rosenkreuz labs or Takatori Mamoru. Give him a Kritiker that has betrayed us all.” 

“Respectful eh? Don’t you mean submissive?” Schuldig smirked again as Aya flushed to the roots of his hair. Bingo! Right on target. 

Farfarello finished strapping a knife to his calf and rolled his pant's leg down before he looked up. "If they weren't already dead I'd kill the bastards that used my flesh to make that... toy." 

Aya glanced at the psychopath. The man had reminded him of something. “He’ll need his fighting skills, of course, and the memory of those that trained him.” A slight, cold smile. “Make his daddy proud of him.” 

Farfarello actually burst out laughing at that comment, a chilling glint of something coldly wicked in his own amber eye. "Oh, aye, make me proud of the little beast." 

Silently to Schuldig he said, *While you're in there, see exactly how much like me he could be. Part of him is me, maybe he's inherited my talents too.* 

Schuldig nodded and began the job of sifting through Zeshin’s mind. Some doors he opened, others he left firmly shut and bolted them for good measure. Total erasure of Rosenkreuz and Takatori could come when he had more time. 

He spotted a flicker of something that reminded him of Farf and investigated it. Oh boy! The kid was as dangerous in his own way as his genetic father. Schuldig strengthened that flicker until it was a steady flame. The boy would have no conscience about killing and that could only help him. 

Zeshin sat, motionless as the German reshaped him in the image they desired, moulding him into something better than he had been before. 

Someone they could trust their lives with. 

Someone incapable of ever betraying them. 

Someone that would obey Abyssinian's every command without question. 

Farfarello watched his lover with keen interest, wishing, not for the first time, that he shared the telepath's ability so he too could go into the boy's mind and hone him to a weapon attuned to the destruction of Rosenkruez and all it stood for. 

Just watching his lover made him hard. He glanced at Aya, wondering what was going through Abyssinian's mind. Was he excited and eager to play with his toy? He had the impression that the red-haired kitten had more in common with Schwarz deep down than he'd ever had with Weiss. 

Aya stood motionless as Schuldig worked, stance belying the excitement he felt at the thought of having had some say in the creation of a team mate. Of course, there was still the possibility that Schuldig would betray his trust but somehow he doubted it. 

And that lead to another epiphany. He was actually beginning to like all the members of Schwarz now he wasn’t constantly called upon to face them as enemies. 

Zeshin's eyes closed and he wilted to the carpet, slipping into a light sleep as the telepath did his work. 

"He's deep in the boy's mind now. It shouldn't take too much longer," Farfarello murmured, watching the telepath as sweat started to bead on Schuldig's forehead from the effort. 

Ken stuck his head in the door and whispered, "Brad says when you're done to meet us in the kitchen. Nagi and I are packing the food." 

He was gone, the door closed softly before either of them could reply. 

Aya smiled slightly. Ken was now calling Crawford 'Brad' and accepting his orders without question. They were becoming a team, a force to be reckoned with. 

Schuldig withdrew from Zeshin’s mind with a slight sigh of relief. “There’s still stuff I have to erase, but it’s locked up tight for now and should cause no problems until I can finish the job properly. As for the rest of the requests, it’s done.” 

He smirked at Aya. “That’s a dangerous little toy you have there.” 

“Good,” was all Aya said. 

* * * * * * * 

They'd arrived at the house without incident but Crawford had refused to let any of them in the place until he'd walked around inside and determined it was safe. 

He'd set Weiss and Farfarello up as guards and sent Nagi to wire the place to blow the minute they were safely on the retreat from the attack that would come from Terror. 

Schuldig had been given the task of helping Fujimiya and Kudoh to get a grip on their powers because it was up to the pair of them to get them out of their current predicament. 

Less than eighteen hours remained to them, and Brad knew better than to trust Rosenkruez to actually give them that much time. 

No, Terror would be coming for them all too soon. 

Brad sat back on the couch and closed his eyes, trying to let some of the tension drain away, using the few minutes alone bring his own turmoil under control. He could feel the threads of time pulling apart finally. It was good to be able to peer down a thread and see a single path rather than the mobius strip he'd been facing the last week or so. 

With his eyes closed he realized how tired he was. While being tired only made his visions more clear, he knew it would hamper Weiss and make them prone to mistakes. 

And a tired Farfarello could be unpredictable. 

The Weiss kitties and Farfarello needed sleep, but he doubted they'd get any. Not since they were facing Terror and what those Rosenkreuz bastards could do to a sleeping mind was not to be contemplated. 

Nagi appeared from the door to the basement. "I've found the weak spots in the supports," he said, "and wired them up with explosive. If the blast doesn't get them the roof falling on their heads will." 

The youngest member of Schwarz had dark rings under his eyes from the use of his talent when he really needed sleep. But he would not sleep and allow Nightmare to get into his head. 

“Or you hope it will,” Kai said from the doorway where he was stationed. He had made no comment at all on Weiss teaming up with Schwarz and had actually come to the conclusion that they’d been damned lucky to be of use to the ex-Essett talents. He couldn’t picture Brad losing now. 

Of them all Ken was the most alert, his dark eyes scanning the darkness of the lush tropical plants that surrounded the house. 

"It will. But since we're awake they'll have to get in here first, and I don't plan on letting that happen." He made a fist and, instead of his bugnucks responding to the motion, hints of flame flickered across his knuckles. 

Crawford saw Siberian call up the pyrokinetic power and his dark eyes lit even as the flame bathed his eyeglass lenses in a ruddy glow. While he'd hoped they'd have more time, it seemed possible that Ken at least had a natural control of his ability. Which brought to mind the idea that, perhaps, the little bed burning incident had been caused by an outside influence. 

Nightmare perhaps. 

Crawford turned his attention to Nagi, mouth twisting down in a sharp frown. The boy had to have sleep, and that meant they'd have to get moving soon. 

*Schuldig have you made any progress? Time is running out for us.* 

*Aya understands his power, at least, it’s just getting him to use it outside of life or death situations and at will. So far it’s been all instinct. Having said that, he understands the situation we’re in and is trying hard. We’re making progress by leaps and bounds. What we need to know is backwards or forwards in time and how far?* 

*Keep working with him Schuldig. I know this is pushing them both hard, but what I'm seeing if we stay here... We might not die, but we'll lose Kudoh and possibly Farfarello and I'm not willing to permit that.* 

*We need to go back. At least fifty years, more if you think the pair of them can manage it,* Crawford replied. *We'd be safe in the nineteen twenties, or thirties. Before Rosenkruez gained all that power during World War Two.* 

*I don’t really want to go through World War Two, Brad. I’ll see how far we can get things. Whoops! Wait a minute! Yes! He’s mastered it! Whenever you’re ready, Vater.* 

Crawford gave a mental chuckle, *Perhaps you'd prefer a nice ocean cruise on the Titanic?* 

To the others he said, " Nagi, Abyssinian is ready, make sure this place will blow if anyone comes in after we're gone. The rest of you, come with me. It's time for us to depart where none of them can find us." He started for the master bedroom where he'd sent the other three. 

If Abyssinian could truly pull this off with help from Kudoh, there was nothing they couldn't do, nowhere they couldn't go. 

And when they were ready... 

The American's glasses glinted with an evil shimmer. 

Yes, when they were ready it would be Rosenkruez that would be on the run.


End file.
